


Divergent Paths

by QuokkaFoxtrot



Series: Way Leads On To Way [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidents, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Autopsy (off-screen), Avoidance, Awkward Dates, Bedside Vigils, Bickering, Blood, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Character Death In Dream, Chess, Chess Metaphors, Clonecest, Clones, Communication, Dick Jokes, Dreams and Nightmares, Dyslexia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epistolary, Existential Crisis, First Time, Freckles, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hermann is also bad at flirting, Hermann loves Newt's freckles, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Identity Issues, Innuendo, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Trauma, Miscommunication, Multi, Needles, Newt is an oblivious asshole, Newt is bad at flirting, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Please read the notes!, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Probably Bad Science, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Quarantine, Rats, Relationship Discussions, Rimming, Rugrats reference, Self-cest, Simpsons reference, Skype, Surgery, Tags will be updated as chapters are posted, Threesome - M/M/M, Twin Peaks reference, Voyeurism, Wayne's World reference, Worldbuilding, and a citation list, animal testing, as canon compliant as possible, briefly, character death - there are technicalities, consider these tags as an index, hijacking characters from everywhere, in future chapters:, lab accident, relationship conversations, samples not sexual, self-love selfies, sometimes, that's not the technicality, these tags are a roller coaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 138,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1943418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuokkaFoxtrot/pseuds/QuokkaFoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>July 26, 2022. An accident in the lab leaves Newt with an identity crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is finished, but I didn't make my deadline to get the beta done in time to start posting it today. This is a teaser chapter and the rest will start coming on July 26, hopefully. I'll be posting 5-10k every Tuesday and Thursday until it's done. 
> 
> This is my first time a) posting something with a spoilable plot, and b) serialising something of this size. I am bound to make mistakes. The following is how I will approach Tagging and Warnings for the whole.
> 
> **TAGS**
> 
> I'll be updating the tags for the previous chapter when I post the next chapter. The tags posted with the first chapter contain the major things that I couldn't in good conscience leave out. 
> 
> By the time the entire fic is posted, all appropriate tags will have been added.
> 
> **WARNINGS**
> 
> Warnings will be added to the notes preceding each chapter. Even if something hasn't been added to the tags yet, it will appear in that highlightable text. I will also give signposts (specific indicators of where in the text potential triggers may occur) so that readers may skip over those bits if they choose. If the parts skipped are plot relevant, I'll provide a brief summary in the end notes (also in highlightable text).
> 
> **GENERAL NOTES**
> 
> This has been beta read for grammar, spelling & plot, but I was unable to find a science beta. I've done a lot of research (including a 5 hour conversation about how a mass spectrometer works and how to prep samples for it O.O) but science isn't my area so some of my 'making shit up because aliens' may not align with that whole reality thing.
> 
> Beta by Antheia. Mistakes by Me.
> 
> **ETA:** (26/8/14)
> 
> Okay, so, every time I try to rearrange the tags so the important things are all together at the beginning, AO3 rearranges them so that everything gets jumbled up. I’m going to put all the important, unskippable things here so their seriousness won’t be undermined by being surrounded by generic tags.
> 
> \- Character Death (There are technicalities, but it’s major and permanent.)  
> \- Grief/Mourning  
> \- Heavy Angst  
> \- Animal Testing/Injury (Graphic but not permanent or painful.)
> 
> That all being said, the next point is included to offset the bleakness of the prior warnings.
> 
> \- Bittersweet ending. (It doesn't end in sunshine and roses, but it's not a black pit of unresolved despair. There's hope. There's always hope.)
> 
> **ETA: 01/12/15**
> 
> [marshtwain](marshtwain.tumblr.com) did some flipping fantastic art inspired by the final chapter. It's [here](http://marshtwain.tumblr.com/post/107525141192/happy-very-late-pacific-rim-secret-santa-for) and the colours and mood are _perfect_ ; exactly what I'd imagined for the scene. (It's not particularly spoilery, either.) Go look at it. Srsly. There's also a [fanmix](http://marshtwain.tumblr.com/post/107848334327/love-me-two-times-divergent-paths-01-where)!
> 
> **ETA:** [alibidraws](alibidraws.tumblr.com)alibidraws did some gorgeous art inspired by chapter 15 [here](http://alibidraws.tumblr.com/post/123448551411/some-late-night-sketches-i-coloured-in-inspired) and some that pretty much captures how the boys sleep [here](http://alibidraws.tumblr.com/post/123510580256/1-more-doodle-based-on-divergent-paths-by). <3<3<3
> 
> **ETA: 22/12/15** Alternate Ending has begun posting under [Paths Diverged](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4323150). If this is your first time reading, it's recommended that you read this version and _then_ move on to the unicorn chaser.

\---

It's raining when Newt gets back to Hong Kong with the samples, but when is it ever not these days? He's sure the destruction caused by the kaiju has sped up global warming by at least a couple of decades, but he'd need a meteorologist and a full team to even begin to look into it, and it's been months since either of those things has been present at a Shatterdome on either side of the Pacific.

"Hey. _Hey!_ Watch what you're doing with that, man!" He shouts at the technician pushing the trolley loaded with crates towards the doors leaving the helipad. "Those are _very_ delicate specimens! They could mean the difference between winning and losing this war, so treat them with a little respect!"

"Floor's bumpy, dude." The man slows down the trolley a little and shrugs. 

"Just... _be gentle_. Be the guy who helped _save_ the world. Not the guy who made the tide-turning samples into mush and destroyed humanity's chances o- Oof, hey!" Newt lurches to the side as he's pushed out of the way by a soldier guarding a retinue of suited women and men with severe expressions. "Walk much?" He's drawing breath to give those assholes an earful when he feels a heavy hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"I would advise that you think very carefully about what you say, Dr. Geiszler; that group holds your funding in their hands." Marshall Pentecost is looking down at Newt not unkindly but Newt barrels on.

"They can't just push people around like that," Newt says gesturing at the group with hands shaking from more than just the windchill. "My work is just as important as theirs. My work is _more_ important than theirs, those wall-building bast-"

"That's _enough_ , Dr. Geiszler," Pentecost cuts Newt off in a tone that brooks no argument and steps past him. "I expect a preliminary report on those samples delivered to me by Friday." 

Newt watches him stride to the elevator to join the group, shoulders back and head up, every inch the military man worthy of respect. He lifts his glasses and wipes the rain from his face, finding himself jostled from side to side by people pushing past, eager to get out of the rain. 

"Watch where you're going," he snipes at them, but the most he gets in response is a dirty look. His eyes dart around the rapidly clearing helipad and realises that his samples have gotten ahead of him. "Hey! I thought I told you to be gentle with those! Treat it like a lover's breast and you want to get lucky tonight!"

"I'll treat it like your mother's breast," one of the techs mumbles in a snide tone as they push the trolleys into a waiting elevator.

"Is that supposed to piss me off or something?" Newt asks as he takes his glasses off to wipe them as well as he can on his sodden shirt. "My mother wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire. My mother wouldn't piss on _me_ if _I_ was on fire." Newt slips his glasses back on and pulls a face at them before ignoring the techs in favour of checking over the crates for damage. 

It's a long ride down to the bowels of the Shatterdome. It's a long time to spend studiously ignoring the fact that he's alone in a small space with three technicians he's pretty sure he just managed to pissed off. 

The elevator slows to a halt and the doors finally open and he's darting out into the hall, looking left and right to make sure there's space for the small convoy of trolleys to proceed unimpeded. 

"Come on, come on, I need to start looking at these specimens ASAP; the kaiju aren't going to stop themselves, you know." Newt ushers them out into the corridor, waving his hand to hurry them. He walks beside them with a bounce in his step as they head towards the lab. "I've got some really interesting things in here this time. A couple of meters of vein, loads of muscle tissue, oh, and the best part, a complete gland - we've got _no_ clue what it does, but I'm pretty sure the pilots are going to need to know about it when we do." 

Newt keeps talking as he walks and the techs nod back with blank stares whenever he makes eye contact so he talks faster and with more gesticulation as though by force of will alone he can make them see how _exciting_ these samples are. He's still trying to get his point across when they walk through the big open doors to the lab and Hermann looks down from his perch high atop the ladder and shakes his head.

"I will never understand why you persist in telling people information they do not require and _are not interested in_ , Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says with a sneer and a shake of his head. 

"This stuff is all _way_ more interesting than your stuffy numbers, Hermann. Just because-"

"I have asked you _repeatedly_ to not refer to me by my given name in company." Hermann glares over his shoulder as he makes his way down the ladder, grabbing his cane off a lower rung and stands to the side to watch the crates being unloaded.

"Pfft," Newt says distractedly as he watches the crates being unloaded. "No, no, against the wall. Single layer - I have to be able to get _into_ them!" Newt directs until they're all to his satisfaction and as the techs are leaving, turns to Hermann with a bright grin. "I love new sample day!" He bounces on his feet and grabs the crowbar, laying it on the nearest crate so he can go over the manifest.

"I don't enjoy repeating myself, Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says, thumping his cane against the metal grating for emphasis. "I really must insist that you adhere to, at the very least, the outward appearance of a respectful professional relationship."

Newt looks up at Hermann with a quizzical brow. "Dude, I can't just _pretend_ I barely know you around other people. Besides, it makes you look like a total asshole if I refer to you as _Dr. Gottlieb_ when everyone knows we've been in this lab together for three years and known each other for way longer. Who doesn't develop _some_ kind of personal relationship in that kind of time?"

"We do not _have_ a personal relationship, Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says looking down his nose at Newt from across the room. 

"Oh." Newt looks down at the manifest and tries to pretend that doesn't hurt a little. Or a lot. 

He thought he'd been wearing down Hermann's defenses a little, but it feels like every time they inched a little forward, Hermann yanked them two steps back - the closer to friendliness they came, the more harsh and stinging Hermann would be on his retreat.

"Right," He says and if it weren't for the fact that he knew that there was a brilliant mind and a sly sense of humour hiding under that stupid haircut, he might consider just giving up; friendship be damned.

"We are forced to share space regardless of how divergent our disciplines are. I have requested time and again that you maintain a respectful distance and yet you continually refuse." Hermann draws himself up to his full height and levels a stare at Newt that could stop a Category II kaiju in its tracks. "If you do not cease, I will have to go over your head."

"'Over my head,'" Newt says with an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow. "Cute." He turns back to the crates and waves a dismissive hand. "Go back to your counting, _Dr. Gottlieb_. Some of us have actual science to do."

"If those samples start rotting like the last ones-"

"How am I supposed to 'maintain a respectful distance' if you won't stop talking to me?" Newt asks without turning around. He's determined to get his focus back on his awesome new samples and off how much of an enormous dick Hermann is being.

He hears Hermann's mouth snap shut and even without looking can tell exactly which face he's making - the one that says he has thirteen different cutting insults piling up behind his teeth but is feeling too chastened to actually let any of them fly. Hermann thumps away and he lets himself relax. All he has to do is catalogue everything and get them into the refrigerators, then he can start the actual worthwhile part of new sample day: research.

It takes him two hours to get everything logged and in place, now he just has to choose where to start. He was going to be a good little research scientist and start with the less interesting - yet still important - veins and musculature that were probably going to be very similar to previous samples, but he figures after the day he's had - getting pushed around physically and emotionally - he deserves a little treat. 

He slips on his lab coat and buttons it up before settling the splash mask on his head and opens the farthest of the refrigerated drawers. Lifting out the bagged gland with a murmured _come to papa_ , he lays it out on the workbench, hangs his recorder from the lamp, and sets it running. He tugs on a pair of gloves as he starts the visual assessment.

"July twenty-six, twenty-twenty-two, three p.m. Subject is a gland taken from the Category III kaiju, Taurax - killed two days ago in Mindanao by Striker Eureka, retrieved yesterday. Gland is one of a pair excised from beneath the tongue of the kaiju - the other was sent to the Sydney Shatterdome to be studied by Griggson. Who is a dick." Newt smirks to himself as he slices open the top of the bag with a scalpel - he's probably the only one who's ever going to listen to these tapes, but on the off-chance that Griggson ever hears it, he wants to get in one last jab for old time's sake. "Laid out, the gland itself is two feet four inches long, and one foot seven inches wide. Team was not able to retrieve any connecting tissue and as much as that's annoying, apparently some black market group turned up halfway through so we were lucky to get what we did." 

Newt puts the ruler down and pulls his stool over with his foot, angling the tray of tools over so he can reach them easily as he sits. He makes a few more observations about its general colour and shape and can hear Hermann on the other side of the room moving around, but, hey, he's working right now and if that doesn't constitute professional he doesn't know what will.

"Taurax did not activate its oral superpowers during the fight, so there's no indication of what the gland actually _does_. It bears similarities to venom sacks found in certain species of snake, but given our limited knowledge of kaiju anatomy, could just as easily be something - _anything_ \- else." Picking up a syringe, he settles himself on the stool, resting his elbows on the side of the workbench for stability. "Going to see if I can get a sample of whatever's inside before I start cutting. Using a one-inch, twenty-two gauge needle, I'm piercing approximately two inches in and three inches along the width. Sample is a clear liquid, slightly viscous... I've got forty mil on the first withdrawal, but I don't think that's the end of it. Going to try and get as much as I can and get this into the mass spectrometer ASAP." 

Reaching for a vial, Newt's sliding the tip of the needle out of the gland when the liquid spurts out and covers the plastic of his visor in a steady stream. "Shit. Fuck. The gland is getting fresh with me on our first date. It's all over my- _fuck!_ It's eating through the visor! Vents, Hermann!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's ridiculously late at night but it's the 26th and there are drunk people yelling outside so stuff it, I'm posting already.
> 
> Note: There may be delays in posting future chapters as the universe is being unreasonably crappy to my beta. 
> 
> I hijacked Beverley Katz from Hannibal and made her a doctor because I needed a doctor and she needed a good home. She's now essentially Katz with Scully's skill set.
> 
> Also, turns out I may have lied about there being highlightable warnings. Mostly because it turns out I can't do a highlightable warning the way I thought I could. Scroll quickly past the next paragraph to the story text if you don't want the spoilers.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Warnings:** Blood drawn using a needle. Graphic description. It's fairly obvious in the text where it happens.

The liquid splashes onto his face and over his clothes, seeping through his lab coat and he can feel it wet against his skin. "Vents!" Newt yells as he flails to get out of the way. 

He sprints to the corner tugging the visor off and throwing it into the corner, tossing his glasses in the eyewash sink. Yanking the cord on the emergency shower, he turns his face up into the stream as he strips off his gloves and once they're off holds his eyes open just in case. When he feels mostly confident his skin isn't going to peel off, he pulls his lab coat open so hard buttons fly off and pops the button on his jeans. He's working on his shirt when he sees Hermann - or a vaguely brown blob that's probably Hermann - standing off to the side. He spits water out of his mouth and peers in Hermann's direction.

"Did you get the ventilation going?" He asks as he pulls his shirt and lab coat off his arms with a wet, sucking noise and throws them to the ground, following shortly after to get his boots off.

"I am aware of protocol, Newton. What happened?" 

"Calling me Newton now, huh? Might start thinking you were worried about me," Newton says with a smirk as he pulls and tugs at his boot until it comes off. 

"I _am_ worried about you," Hermann says with a huff. "I'm not completely heartless. Now tell me what in blazes happened."

"Simple extraction gone awry. I was following standard procedure and the gland got the best of me by _defying_ physics and shooting a stream of stuff at my face," Newt says, pausing briefly to gesture emphatically. "It shouldn't have been able to _do_ that - Taurax has been dead for two days and the gland's been in refrigeration for the past twenty-four hours." Newt gets his other boot off and starts working his jeans over his hips but the water is goddamn cold and he's starting to shiver - the only time he ever regrets wearing pants this awesome is when the emergency shower comes into play. "I don't think it was acidic because, well, I've still got a face and there's no holes in my clothes or anything. It didn't like the visor plastic that much, though." He's got his jeans down to his knees when he has to stop for a breather. "Did you call medical?"

" _Yes_ , I called medical. They're on their way. Though, it may take a while to set up the quarantine." 

"Great. Now I have _that_ to look forward to. Just when I didn't think this day could get any worse..." Newt sighs and goes back to working his pants off his calves, the cold, wet material chafing his skin and tugging at the hair painfully until they're finally off and he can stand and rinse himself off. "Can you grab one of the blankets from the first aid kit? This water is fucking _freezing_. I think my balls have ascended so far into my abdomen they're cozying up to my lungs."

"Charming imagery," Hermann deadpans. "The blanket's ready whenever you're done."

"Just gimme a sec," Newt says, forcing himself to stand under the water and let it rinse away whatever's left of the glandular fluid. He runs his fingers lightly over his chest and neck where he remembers the liquid hitting him and it's slightly bumpy, like a mild case of hives. His face is the same, and when he holds his hand up close to his eyes, he can see that it's a pale pink around the welts. 

This shit better not fuck with his ink. 

Yanking the chain again to stop the flow, he shakes off, apologising as Hermann sputters angrily and takes a few steps away, and reaches for his glasses. 

"Leave them, Newton. They're contaminated," Hermann says and Newt swears.

"Awesome. Now I get to go through this entire process fucking _blind_ , too." He turns and squints at the lab, trying to figure out where Hermann is so he can get the blanket wrapped around himself already. "Uh, Hermann? Gimme a clue where you are. I can't exactly echolocate." He sees something move and orients himself towards it.

"This way. I'm holding up the blanket," Hermann says and as he gets closer, he can see that the beige-y brown thing over the large grey thing is Hermann's head.

"Oh my god, the blanket's the same color as the entire room, Hermann. You couldn't have camouflaged yourself better if you tried." Newt inches closer, checking his way forward with his toes, and holds his arms outstretched until he feels the material rough against his fingertips. He all but snatches it away from Hermann and wraps it around himself hurriedly, letting it soak up the droplets and trying not to rub it against his skin as he huddles under it and shivers. "I am totally requesting that we get a _hot water_ emergency shower installed in this place," he says as he blows against his hands to warm up.

"I'll put the kettle on," Hermann says and Newt can hear him thumping away.

"Sweet. Ingesting things in c-contaminated rooms is a new h-hobby of mine," Newt says as he pulls the blanket tighter.

"Would you rather I not?" Hermann asks in an arch tone. Without his glasses, Newt can't see the withering stare but he knows it's there - he _knows_ that stare.

"No, I'm c-cold. I'll drink," Newt says, shuffles forward and stops. "Uh, can you, uh, can you get me a ch-chair?" He knows his side of the lab like the back of his hand, could navigate it blindfolded and drunk in the dark, but he can't risk getting any more contaminated than he already is and Hermann would probably outright kill him if he stumbled blindly through his neat and precise stacks of books and papers, naked and dripping.

He hears the grating sound of metal on metal and turns to see Hermann dragging what is probably one of the obnoxiously ugly chairs from the small meeting alcove behind his holodisplay. He's not one-hundred percent sure this isn't payback for putting the lab into lockdown for the foreseeable future; those chairs are obnoxiously uncomfortable, too. He's pretty sure Hermann chose them because the extreme discomfort caused by sitting in them for more than five minutes was guaranteed to keep any meeting short and to the point.

"Thanks, m-man," he says through chattering teeth and hunches over in the chair, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at the blurry floor.

Hermann doesn't respond and walks off into his side of the room. Newt can hear him puttering around, setting the kettle to boil, the clinking of cups and crockery, and outside the doors to the lab are raised voices and the sound of equipment being set up. It'll probably be at least another ten minutes until the plastic tent is up and the medical team can enter in all their HazMat suited glory like something out of E.T. He stands and adjusts the blanket until it's over the top of his head, and wraps it back around himself as he sits.

"Are you going to do that _every_ time we go through this?" Hermann asks as he returns, tapping Newt's arm until he raises it and guiding the warm cup into his hand.

"How often do I have a semi-legitimate reason to pretend to be in an old Spielberg movie?" Newt asks, sighing as he holds the cup up and breathes on the hot tea to warm up his face.

"This isn't even approaching semi-legitimate," Hermann says and drops something by Newt's feet. "Here, put these on."

"What are they?" Newt asks as he feels around with his toes.

"Slippers," Hermann says as he walks away.

"Dude, if I put these on they're going straight in the incinerator when we get to medical, you know that, right?" Newt reaches up to adjust his glasses, as though the simple act of pressing his index finger to the bridge of his nose will allow him to actually _see_ Hermann's face, and huffs in frustration as he pokes himself in the forehead.

"You'll owe me a new pair," Hermann says and his voice is getting quieter as he walks away. "It's better than watching my labmate turn an alarming shade of blue."

"Y'know, I really don't understand you sometimes," Newt says as he slides his feet into the slippers and holy hell he hadn't realised how cold his toes were until they were enveloped in warm, softness. "I mean, half the time you treat me like I'm lower than _dirt_ , and then you go and be a decent person when shit like this happens. I'm getting some serious emotional whiplash here, Herm."

"I-" Hermann begins and is cut off by a loud banging at the door.

"Doctors? We've cleared the perimeter and the seal is in place. What's the situation in there?" The voice is muffled through the door and Hermann grumbles and moves closer.

"Dr. Geiszler has availed himself of the emergency shower and is currently dripping all over the middle of the floor. He is cognisant and ambulatory, though he has a slight rash over the affected areas. The contaminant does not appear to be airborne." Hermann huffs and waits for a response.

"I'm fine!" Newt yells to back Hermann up. "I think it's just kaiju saliva, if that helps any." He can practically _hear_ Hermann rolling his eyes.

"We're going to follow protocol just the same, Dr. Geiszler. If you're near the door, please step back; we're coming in."

The doors groan open and three HazMat suited figures enter and spread out, one bright yellow blurry shape moving towards the brown Hermann blob, one heading to Newt's side of the lab, and one stopping a few feet from Newt and kneeling down. He knew what the HazMat suits looked like, but that didn't stop having a giant, yellow blob coming towards him being a touch intimidating.

Newt continues blowing on the hot tea and waits for the questions to start. "My glasses got caught in the glandular crossfire, so I'm kind of flying blind here - literally. Which one are you?"

"It's Katz, Newt. Don't worry, I gotcha," she says and Newt breathes a sigh of relief - at least he doesn't have to worry about getting stuck with someone new.

"They stick you on permanent quarantine detail after the last time, or did you just jump at the chance to come be my knight in shining armor again?" Newt asks with a grin.

"I was mostly thinking 'hey, I hope that little dweeb doesn't die - who else is going to show me his scabby tattoos at every physical?'" There's warmth in her voice; she's one of the few people who can call him a dweeb without it feeling like an attack.

"Hey, I thought you liked seeing my new ink when I come in," Newt says pouting a little.

"Not when it's that _fresh_. They're always so flaky I have to stop myself from calling down the dermatologist," She says and Newt can hear that she's rummaging through her medkit. "Okay, I gotta take the samples now. How are you feeling?"

"Uh, cold. A little hungry. Damp. My skin's tingly where the stuff touched me and it looks kind of like I've got hives? But I'm not itchy," Newt says and holds his hand up close to his face so he can have another look.

"No headache? Dizziness? Nausea?" 

"Nope. I wasn't joking about the hungry thing, though. Any chance we'll be able to get dinner a little early once we're in? I haven't eaten since I left Mindanao this morning and with the time difference-"

"We're in the same timezone, Newt; I'm sure you'll survive. Just going to check your eyes. There's going to be a bright light. Don't freak out, okay?"

"I don't have a head injury," Newt says, but tries not to jerk back as her hand moves towards his face.

"Says you," she says with a smile in her voice as she holds his head steady and checks his pupillary responses. "Everything looks okay there. Open your mouth - say _Ahh_. I've got a tongue depressor here and I'm gonna use it."

Newt does as he's told and a second later he feels the pressure on his tongue as she shines the light in his mouth.

"You've got the same rash on the inside of your cheeks and down your throat. You're sure it's not itchy?" She asks as she removes the nasty tasting piece of wood from his mouth. 

Newt pulls a face and swallows a few times to get rid of the taste before answering. "Definitely not itchy. Didn't realize I'd got it in my mouth -  
didn't taste anything. Although... there was a _tiny_ bit of shouting going on at the time."

"Okay, we'll keep an eye on it. Let me get a closer look at that rash. Can you open up the blanket for me?"

"Uh, yeah, I can... But I've got nothing on under it. Fair warning," Newt says with a shrug letting the blanket fall off the top of his head but not opening it up.

"You don't say?" Katz says voice dripping with sarcasm and he can tell she's rolling her eyes. "I know how the emergency shower works, Newt. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Just trying to do the gentlemanly thing. Gimme a sec." Newt flips open the blanket and tucks the folds around his middle; it's not modesty, it's goddamn cold in this room.

"Tell me where it made contact," she says as she leans toward his chest, rubber suit squeaking awkwardly as she moves.

"So, it sprayed up my arm, got my neck and chest, ate through the visor so there was a little on my face. Don't think it got any lower, well, when I was washing it off, but it'd have diluted so, maybe not an issue?" Newt shrugs. He can feel Katz's double-gloved hands touch his chin lightly and adjust his head, presumably so she can see.

"It's just tingling? Nothing else?" She asks and moves to his chest.

"Yeah, kind of like when someone strokes you with a feather."

"Okay. The affected areas are slightly raised. Mottled pink on your neck and face, but I can't see any coloration on your chest because of the ink. We'll get it checked out when we get to medical." She moves away and returns a moment later, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Can I get you to stretch your arm out - gotta take blood now."

Newt holds out his arm and waits as she wraps the tourniquet above the elbow and puts a ball in his hand.

"Squeeze this for me. Good. Okay, you'll feel a small pinch..."

"No, I won't. I'll feel a sharp pain as you stick a needle in my vein and it'll keep hurting while you leave it there and drain me- Ah! Jeez. Little warning!" Newt yelps as Katz sticks him.

"Hey, I gave you a little warning and then you were a giant baby about it. Relax your hand now," she says as she releases the tourniquet and takes the ball away. "How'd you manage to get so much ink if you don't like needles?"

"This? Is nothing like getting a tattoo. They don't go deep and they don't stay in the same place and _wiggle_ around in the wound. Tattoos are _art_ , this is a form of tiny, horrible torture." Staring down at his arm, he can barely see the vial the blood is pooling in so it looks like it's just hovering in place once it comes out of the needle. He stares at it as it fills and the lack of clarity just makes the situation even more nauseatingly morbid.

"Just one more," she says as she switches out the vial, the needle pressing slightly deeper as she pushes the new one in. "You able to walk?"

"I'm _cold_ , not in a coma," Newt says pulling a face at where he thinks her face is.

"Gotta ask these things: Protocol."

"Oh my _god_ , I am getting that so much today: _I know prrrotocol, Dr. Geiszler_. Jeez, just call me a moron, why don't you?" Newt bitches as she pops out the second vial and sticks a cotton ball over the needle as she slides it out.

"Gottlieb getting to you again?" She asks with a snort. "You two bicker like old ladies at a bus stop. You know, we've got a pool going - odds on three-to-one he beats you with his cane. Long odds on you get married, two-hundred-to-one."

Newt snorts. "Put me down for twenty on 'beats me with a stick'."

"That's the spirit. Hold this here for a sec," she says, pushing down on the cotton ball and waiting for him to take it before returning a moment later with some tape and securing it in place. "Okay, just need swabs of the rash and we're good for now."

He feels cotton rubbing against his cheek and neck, then his chest, and he hears her putting the swab in a container. She taps him lightly on the cheek and says _open up_ and the swab touches the inside of his cheek and the back of his throat and he pulls a face and swallows repetitively to get rid of the taste and feeling.

"Okay, so we're as done as we can be here. There's a gurney waiting to take you to medical-"

"A _gurney_!? I can _walk_ , y'know. I bet you're going to let Hermann have one of the suits," Newt grumbles and Katz pats him on the knee.

"Protocol, man." 

"Ugh. It always feels like you've got me lying in a body bag," Newt says and shudders. "Can I at least pretend that I'm dying?" 

"You can moan a little. _No_ histrionics. I thought the Marshall was going to kill us all last time," she says and sounds like she's trying to be stern, but there's humour in her voice and he _knows_ she found it as funny as he did last time.

"What? You mean I'm not allowed to incite panic in the general populace anymore? Bummer," Newt says with an innocent look and hears Katz snort.

"Come on, let's get you down to medical so we can run the last of these tests," she says and he sees her stand and pick up her medkit.

Newt follows and adjusts the blanket around himself, pulling it up over his head again and pulling it close. Katz takes him by the wrist and puts his hand on her arm and leads him over to the door. 

"Oh, hey!" Newt spins around and squints towards his workspace. "You in the suit who I can't really see - my recorder's hanging above the table. Can you switch it off for me? It's been going since before everything went down, so there'll be a full account of what happened." He turns back and then spins around again. "And when you're done, can you put the entire tray the gland's on in in the locker marked double-oh-five?"

"He's giving you a thumbs up," Katz says as Newt stares at the yellow blob waiting for a response.

"Ah, sweet. Thanks," Newt says as he turns back, grabbing what he hopes is Katz's forearm. "Ok, lead me to my doom."

Katz pushes the door open and leads him out into the hall. The entire area has been cordoned off and a vacuum-sealed tent set up around the doors of the lab. A beige-brown blob that can only be Hermann is in one corner being helped into a HazMat suit to keep him contained until they reach medical. He looks up as Newt steps in.

"That's another day's work down the drain, Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says with narrowed eyes. "You had better hope it isn't airborne this time. My research was set back _weeks_ because of your-"

"I've heard this one before, Hermann. Do you know any other songs?" Newt cuts Hermann off with a roll of his eyes as Katz leads him to the lowered gurney in the corner and helps him climb on. "You know this is all just security theatre, right? All our quarantine procedures are based on pathogens indigenous to _this_ planet. We're just sort of _hoping_ that they'll work for whatever the kaiju throw at us."

"Dr. Geiszler, we have just _had_ this conversation - you are to refer to me by my _title_ when we're in company," Hermann says with a sneer and then it looks like he's pointing the end of his cane at Newt accusingly. (Or his arm just got three feet longer. Newt's going with the former.) "And you know as well as I that the quarantine procedures are in place to protect us as well as can be expected given our situation. Your first instinct was to follow the emergency protocol. I don't know why you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've taken more emergency showers than you've had hot dinners, _Dr. Gottlieb_ ," Newt says, emphasising Hermann's name and title snidely as he settles back on the gurney. "Look where it's gotten me." Newt waves his hands about airily as Katz begins to zip up the plastic barrier hanging around the bed.

"For some reason that doesn't surprise me in the slightest," Hermann says with a sniff.

"Sorry, boys. You're gonna have to pick this up in medical," Katz says zipping the tent closed and setting the oxygen tank going. 

Newt lays back as they decontaminate the outside of the tent and wheel him out into the halls. The trip to medical is relatively quick and Katz only thwaps the side of the gurney once when his moans get a little too theatrical. They take more blood and swabs and make him shower in the decontamination area before he enters the cleanroom, but this time there's hot water and a towel and he gets some clean, white scrubs to change into, so it's not all bad.

Hermann's already there when he's lead to the opposite bed by someone in a HazMat suit and sits down.

"You know the drill, doctors: twenty-four hours under observation," Katz says from the other side of the window looking in on the sterile room. "You tell us if you're feeling _anything_ out of the ordinary. Dr. Gottlieb, your supplies will be here soon, and we're working on getting you a fresh set of eyes, Newt."

"Thank you, Dr. Katz. Will you kindly inform the Marshall that I wish to speak with him?" Hermann asks in a clipped tone that Newt's pretty sure is aimed at him, not her.

"The Marshall has already called down to say he's on his way. He should be here within the hour, Dr. Gottlieb," Katz says and Hermann huffs. "You guys need anything else right now?"

"Uh, food? I'm so hungry I could eat Hermann. Uh. That's- that's not a pathogen talking. That's- I'm super starving. I'm not going to eat Hermann," Newt says, backtracking quickly when he remembers the situation. He gets that people don't always follow his thought processes, but it's so much harder to gauge when he can't even see their facial expressions.

"I'll see what I can do," Katz says and walks away and then they're alone.

"You know, without my glasses and with the whole white scrubs, white walls thing we've got going on here... your head looks like a giant pancake floating in space," Newt says, tilting his head to the side as he leans back against the wall and thumps his hands on the mattress in a bored staccato.

"Really, Newton, just when I think you can't get any more asinine," Hermann says derisively and Newt can see him lowering himself onto the bed opposite.

"Here we go..." Newt slides down the wall to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling - at least white can't appear blurry. "So far today you've insulted my intelligence, my research, my general demeanor, my friendship, and then you go and act like a decent human being when shit hits the fan. I really don't get it. Do you have a special reserve of human decency that you bring out when it's possible that someone you _hate_ might _die_? Do you keep it beside the 'Newton Geiszler's finally dead and out of my hair' celebratory champagne? Is it even possible that-"

"I don't hate you," Hermann interrupts and Newt has to turn his head and squint at him. "And we are not friends."

"Thanks, Hermann. I needed the confirmation. Really great for the self-esteem. How about I just never talk to you again, huh? Would you like that? No more greetings, no more inclusion. I'll never bring you snacks from the canteen again. Better yet, I'll just pretend that you don't exist so you never have to worry about me stomping all over your delicately constructed little world," Newt spits and rolls on his side, away from Hermann. He'd tried, he'd really tried. He'd thought they could come back from their disastrous first meeting and at least be able to work together, but, no. Hermann was so damn prim and proper and intractable that he couldn't give him even the tiniest amount of leeway where his personality was concerned. He _knows_ he's too much - that he says and does the wrong things and that people can't follow him half the time - and he's tried to rein it in and be _less_ but it's never worked and there's only so much bravado he can put up to save face.

"We are colleagues. We share a workspace. _You_ have _severe_ boundary issues. I have repeatedly requested that you _respect_ my boundaries and you repeatedly prove that you are incapable of such a feat. I will not be party to your self-indulgent, woe-is-me tantrum," Hermann says and there's a clang as the metal temporary cane he's been given hits the side of the bed.

"Oh my god," Newt says and spins around, sitting up and pointing in Hermann's general direction - he thinks he's close. "You think I'm being self-indulgent after you shit all over _everything_? Fine. I am _bad_ at remembering that there are other people around when I talk to you. That's _all_ you've got me on. Everything else is you being a massive asshole with an ego the size of Jupiter. I really don't get what you want from me."

"What I want is your _respect_ , Dr. Geiszler. I am aware of your tendency to reduce everything and everyone to your level, but if you can't treat me with the barest level of decency inferred by my-"

"Oh my god, you dick. You diiiiiiick. You complete _dick_." Newt says clutching his head - Hermann's idiocy physically pains him. It's all so stupidly simple. "You've _got_ my respect."

"Could have fooled me," Hermann says with a sniff and Newt's pretty sure he's crossing his arms and looking at him like he's something untoward stuck to his shoe.

"No, it's true. I forget that you want me to use your title, but that's only because I think of you as a _person_ , not an honorific. I mean, you're _smart_. You might actually _get_ what I'm talking about sometimes. I treat _everyone_ as if they're smart enough to understand what I'm talking about - sure, it's not the best approach _all_ the time, but it's better than assuming that they won't because then I just look like a supercilious asshole." Newt sighs and looks down at his legs swinging on the edge of the bed. "I don't do it to be obnoxious. I just- I think they're _awesome_. As in 'inspiring awe', y'know. I just- It's amazing how they work, that they _can_ work. They're so _different_ from everything we've ever seen and I want to share it with- with _everyone_. And if I tell enough people, maybe some of them will understand a little better." He shrugs and his voice drops. "Or maybe I'll find someone who thinks they're awesome, too."

"Maybe we would have been better off had you shared a lab with someone more like you," Hermann says, but it sounds more tired than accusatory.

"Yeah, two of me in the same room. That's gonna go down well. We'd probably hate each other," Newt snorts and lies back down, covering his eyes with his hand.

"You know what they say - people often hate most that which they see in themselves," Hermann says and the bed squeaks as he sighs and sits down and Newt wishes yet again that he could just _see_ because Hermann sounds regretful and that doesn't gel with the conversation they've been having.

"What? You're saying you see yourself in me? Or me in you?" Newt says then blushes and backtracks. He doesn't think about that - he's brash and impulsive but he's not a _masochist_. "You- No. We're as different as we can possibly be while still being the same species."

"You'd be surprised." Hermann lies down then they're both quiet and staring at the same ceiling. "I apologise," Hermann says softly. "I know what it's like to want to share my enthusiasm with others only to be met with blank stares and derision. I am aware that maths are not the most welcoming or inclusive of languages - _especially_ given the way they're treated by the world at large-" Hermann cuts himself off and Newt can tell he's doing that thing where he purses his lips and takes a deep breath through his nose to regain himself. "I had not recognised that I was guilty of the same trespasses as those who have trespassed against me."

"Are we having a moment?" Newt asks, squinting over at Hermann - it doesn't help make the situation any clearer.

"Not anymore," Hermann says primly and Newt cringes.

"Shit. Sorry. I- We don't usually get weirdly personal until, like, the second half of quarantine. And it's never weirdly personal about _us_ , like, you and me. It threw me a little." He shrugs and the bed squeaks and it's only been around two hours but he's kind of over navigating by sound. "So, okay. I'll try harder to remember that sometimes you're not the only one in the room when we talk. But I still don't really get why."

"Look at me, Newton," Hermann says and Newt rolls his eyes.

"Kind of can't right now. Just pretend I remember your face," Newt says and he knows he's being a bit of an asshole but it's been two hours and if Hermann hasn't worked out that he can't see shit right now then he's more than welcome to keep giving him that narrow-eyed look that's tight around the cheeks and sneery around the mouth all he wants.

"I have a choice between being seen as that stodgy old cripple, or that stodgy old cripple who's _worth listening to_ ," Hermann says with a huff. " _That_ is why I ask that you call me by my _title_."

"Dude, nobody sees you that way," Newt says, pulling a face. "I don't know if you've noticed, but scientists in Shatterdomes are an endangered species. The fact that you're still _here_ means you're worth listening to."

"Do you think anyone outside of K-Sci is paying attention to our dwindling numbers? They're all focussed on winning the war, on maintaining and upgrading the Jaegers. They couldn't give two shits if there are two or two-hundred of us down in the labs unless we're directly contributing to killing the creatures or plugging the hole they're coming through."

"But we _are_ directly contributing," Newt says, pushing himself up to sit. "Coyote and Striker wouldn't have been able to take Ceramander down so quickly if they didn't know about those weak points that me and Griggson found. They _know_ that we-"

"They don't _know_ and they don't _care_ ," Hermann cuts Newt off in a sneering tone. "They _know_ that Striker and Coyote took Ceramander down. That's all they know and that's all they care to know. Whatever contributions we make will have to be a damn sight more obvious than 'if you punch the Kaijus like _this_ it will hurt them' or 'the breach is _somewhere_ in the Mariana Trench' before anyone other than the denizens of K-Sci will take notice."

"Kaiju is the plural of kaiju," Newt groans for the thousandth time and scrubs his fingers through his hair before pushing himself to his feet and holding his hands out as he makes his way to the nearest wall and turns around to put his back against it. "Would you say mooses? Would you? Ugh, forget it."

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermann asks as Newt carefully places one foot at the tip of the toes on his other.

"Getting my bearings. I need to know how big the room is if I'm going to be able to navigate it without help," Newt says and continues to measure the room with his feet.

"It's the same room we were in last time. It's eight foot by ten and there are two-hundred and forty-eight tiles on the ceiling. There's a gap of three feet between the beds, and it's four feet to the door. The washroom is five feet by four - toilet and basin to the left, shower to the right," Hermann says. There's a strange sound and it takes Newt a moment to realise that it's Hermann punching his pillow, presumably to get more comfortable. Newt hopes it isn't practice. 

"Thanks, Hermann. Just... thanks. But if it's all the same to you, I'm going to keep measuring," Newt says and he's now four of his own feet away from the wall and if Hermann's right, it'll be another ten before he hits the other wall.

"What for? You _know_ this room. You've certainly been in it enough."

"Yeah, and I wasn't _agitated_ before," Newt says. That's six. "I don't know if you've noticed but I'm _blind_ and _caged_ and now you've got me contemplating my own impending obsolescence." Eight. "I've been doing pretty fucking well dealing with all this shit without making a big deal of it. I mean, seriously, have you even _met_ me? I've been a model inmate for the entire time we've been here, but there's only so long I can spend staring at your giant pancake head before- oh my _god_ , I want pancakes. Are they ever going to feed us?"

"We've been here less than an hour, Newton," Hermann says and Newt realises he's nowhere near the line he was walking and he's lost count. His shoulders slump and he sighs.

"I lied," Newt says and presses his forehead against the viewing window, looking forlornly out at the vague shapes of medical personnel passing by. "I might eat you." 

"You're not going to eat me," Hermann replies with a sniff.

"You don't know that. I could totally eat you. Maybe that gland was filled with, I dunno, zombie juice," Newt says and places a hand on the window, briefly considering sliding down slowly to make everyone freak out.

"Zombie juice? Really?" Hermann says. Newt can tell he's rolling his eyes and shaking his head without even turning around.

"It's as good a theory as any considering I _can't study it_ while I'm stuck in h- Marshall incoming!" Newt jerks upright and rubs his hand over the window to get rid of his forehead and handprints. He only succeeds in making the marks smudgier.

"You're blind; how can you tell?" Hermann asks, but he's sitting up and moving to stand beside Newt.

"Not even my shitty eyesight can make that perfect posture blurry," Newt says and steps hurriedly back, tripping into Hermann, as the Marshall walks up to the window.

"Gentlemen," he greets them seriously. "What happened?"

"Ah, funny story, actually," Newt says, righting himself and patting at Hermann's shoulder to make sure he's okay - he's close enough that he can actually make out a few features and he's seventy percent sure that that's anger and disgust being aimed in his direction right now. He jerks his hands back and turns back to the Marshall to continue, slightly flustered. "One of the samples broke physics and there was a slight containment issue. The whole quarantine thing is pretty much just a formality." Newt tries to downplay the incident but has no idea if it's working.

"The rash on your face is 'just a formality'?" Pentecost asks and the tone is enough to make Newt shrink back on himself a little, that level of disapproval is potent even through an inch of plexiglass.

"Okay, so I was exposed to an unknown substance," Newt says with a small shrug. "I _think_ it's just saliva, but I can't be sure without, y'know, studying it. Which I can't do because I'm stuck in here following protocol."

"Dr. Katz has advised me that there's a team working on it," Pentecost says in a tone that suggests he's not going to take any more of Newt's sass. "What I need to know is if this was preventable - this is the third time the both of you have been in quarantine in the past eighteen months when I need you - _both_ of you - out here working on solutions."

"With all due respect, the fact of the matter is that we're _completely_ in the dark when it comes to dealing with exposure to kaiju - we don't have the resources or time to come up with safe and foolproof methods. We know exactly jack and shit about how to deal with all this stuff, safely or not." Newt says and he's pushing at his absent glasses again and wishing he didn't have that tell. "The kaiju have so far been weirdly similar structurally but at the same time completely different in terms of their methods of attack, both physical and biological. They're just so mutable that we're constantly playing catch-up rather than being ahead of the curve." 

"What you're saying is that it's likely this will happen again," Pentecost says and it's not really a question.

"Uh, probably?" Newt says and he can feel Hermann practically vibrating with ire beside him. "I was following protocol and wearing all the requisite safety gear at the time. It's not like I actively went and stuck my face in a kaiju gland just for funsies. It's like the whole Marie Curie thing: we don't know the danger until we know the danger."

"I really must cut in, Marshall," Hermann says and he's drawing himself up to his full height and Newt knows what's coming. "I have requested time and again to be relocated to another lab. Our fields are simply too divergent to be contained in the same space."

"I have heard and understand your concerns, Dr. Gottlieb. However, given our limited resources your request, and any future requests, will be denied. Dr. Geiszler's work is such that accidents may occur and we do not have the personnel available to assign him an assistant. With you in the room, there will be someone to alert medical, as today's events have proven."

"You realise that you are essentially asking me to _babysit_ Dr. Geiszler at the potential expense of _both_ our lives, correct? You are condemning me to whatever horrible fate befalls my colleague because he requires _supervision_?" Hermann sounds pissed and it figures that he'd be completely blind the day he got to witness _Hermann_ , of all people, talk back to teacher.

"You also require supervision," Pentecost says and it takes everything Newt has not to _oooooh, burn_ Hermann - he wishes he could see the Marshall's face, he really, _really_ does. "Since you've been placed with Dr. Geiszler your productivity has increased and your tendency to get caught up in practically inapplicable theoretical tangents has diminished significantly. He keeps you on point, Dr. Gottlieb. You need him as much as he needs you. Neither of you function as well apart as you do together and the PPDC needs both of you, working to the best of your potential, if we are to do more than simply _survive_ the next battle."

Newt can hear Hermann's jaw snapping shut and his spine straightening and he knows his own eyebrows are somewhere up around his hairline so he can only imagine how chastened Hermann looks right now.

"Of course, Sir," Hermann says. There's a clicking sound and movement in his peripheral vision and Newt jerks back before realising that it's just Hermann _saluting_ again.

"I've asked Dr. Katz to keep me apprised of the situation. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to convincing the U.N. delegates that your work continues to be worth funding." Pentecost turns and walks away and out of the corner of his eye, Newt can see Hermann's shoulder's slump.

"Aw, Hermann," Newt says turning to follow Hermann back to the beds. "I make you more productive. I hope there's a recording of that somewhere. I want it as my ringtone. _He keeps you on point, Dr. Gottlieb_. How awesome would that be? "

"Oh, shut it, Geiszler," Hermann says and sits heavily on the bed, lying down and rolling onto his side away from Newt.

"Don't be like that, Herm," Newt says and flops down on his own bed. "Apparently I need a babysitter. You're not the only one who got slapped in the face by that speech."

"You were not the one who was summarily told that his life is only valuable as a stopgap measure between _you_ and _death_ ," Hermann says and his voice is low and cold and it pulls Newt up short.

"No. That's not- He wasn't saying that, Hermann," Newt says, shaking his head emphatically as he sits up and leans forward. "He needs us _both_. That's what he said."

"If he needed us _both_ so much," Hermann spits rolling over and sitting up to point at Newt angrily. "He would separate us. He would keep _us_ safe. He knows as well as you and I, that I would be safest _away_ from _you_."

Newt flinches as if he's been physically slapped. He looks down at his hands as he tries to recover; not being able to see Hermann's face just makes it worse. Somewhere in some small part of his mind he'd known that it was unfair for Hermann to essentially face down death every day. Hermann was a theory man; he was numbers and equations and simulations; he was the smell of old books and late nights programming. He wasn't hazardous materials and entrails spread across stainless steel. 

"I wouldn't be safe away from _you_ ," Newt says quietly. "I know it doesn't seem that way but... I get so much more work done when you're around. All the accidents that have happened since we started sharing a lab were unpreventable. I- There were a lot of preventable accidents before. I just... I pay more attention to what I'm doing when you're around - your disapproval is potent, you should bottle it and sell it to parents trying to keep their kids in line." Newt shrugs and looks to the side. "I know they were all false alarms so far, but if they weren't... you would have saved my life three times already. That means something. It means something to me."

"You'll forgive me if your gratitude does little to assuage my feeling of irrelevance," Hermann says and his tone could strip paint.

"You're brave," Newt says and he can hear Hermann's jaw snap shut. "You're braver than anyone gives you credit for - than _I_ ever gave you credit for."

"Don't do this, Newton. I don't need your pity." Hermann lies back on the bed and Newt's sitting up a little straighter.

"It's not pity. I just- I never really thought about it before. You come to work every day _knowing_ that it could be the day that one of my samples kills us both. But you do it because you know your work is important. And, yeah, I've had my knee-jerk reactions calling your work stuffy and dull but they were sort of you-push-me-and-I-push-you situations. I mean, if it comes down to me getting funding or you getting funding, or my theory versus your theory, I'm gonna throw you under the bus. Pretty sure you'd do the same. But that doesn't mean I don't think you and your work aren't important. It's, like, Pythagoras' theorem is important, but so is penicillin. We can't really value one over the other without shooting ourselves in the foot." 

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Newton, but it doesn't change the fact that I am, for all intents and purposes, expendable," Hermann sighs and Newt kind of wants to get up and go put his hand on Hermann's shoulder for support. But they're not friends.

"You're not expendable. You're- We're running out of time. We're _all_ running out of time. We're running out of Jaegers. We're running out of pilots. We're running out of funding. But we're not giving up. We're going to keep working. And if I help you work better and faster, then that's a _good_ thing. We're all going to die. But, you and me? We're going to die _stopping_ those assholes from destroying us." Newt takes a breath, squinting over at Hermann to try and gauge his reaction - he's still lying flat on his back, but now his arm's over his face and Newt can't tell what that means.

"That was a good speech," Hermann says after a time, voice muffled into the crook of his arm.

"Did it help?"

"Not particularly." Hermann sits up and he's leaning over the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his thighs. "It's... true. What the Marshall said. You do help make me more productive."

"Sweet! I'm an integral part of Hermann Gottlieb's process! I think this should elevate me from a footnote to at _least_ a paragraph in your memoir," Newt says with a grin.

"You'll get an entire bloody chapter devoted to exactly how irritating you are," Hermann grumps. "You're a _distraction_. You... you keep me from getting caught up in my own head, working out problems that don't need solutions just yet. At any other time that work would be considered important... _groundbreaking_. With the way things currently stand, it is... unnecessary."

"That is the best thing I've ever heard," Newt says bouncing a little.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I help you without even trying. Merely existing in the same space as me makes you a better you." Newt starts dancing in place, aiming a shit-eating grin at Hermann who he's pretty sure is glaring at him with the fire of a thousand suns, but, hey, if he's not thinking he's unnecessary or expendable, then it's totally worth it.

"If you do not stop- stop... _dancing_ , you will die and it will not be one of your samples that killed you," Hermann says and Newt can't help but laugh.

"First death threat of the day!" Newt throws his arms up in the air and strikes a victorious pose.

"I hope it's the last," Katz says from the other side of the plexiglass.

Newt straightens and slowly lowers his arms, feeling a little bit embarrassed at being caught teasing Hermann like that.

"Come on," she says, jerking her head to get them to follow her around to the door to the decontamination room. "Brian's got your things ready. There's a tablet, paper, pencils and a sharpener for you, Hermann - _please_ use the trash can for the shavings this time. Newt, I've loaded up all we've got on this flavor of Kaiju goo onto the other tablet. When the sample gets done in the mass spectrometer, I'll give you LAN access. Your emergency glasses are there, too. The prescription might be a little off, and they're totally not your style, but it's the best we could do on short notice."

"Awesome. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to clarity," Newt says making his way over to the drawer with his hand on the wall to keep him steady. Hermann gets there first and plucks the glasses from the top of the stack, handing them to Newt by the bridge.

They're wire-framed and light and they feel strange as he slides them over his ears and settles them on his nose. Everything's still slightly blurry but he can see shapes and faces and that's so much better than the lazy impressionist painting he was existing in before. He turns to Hermann with a raised eyebrow and Hermann gives him an odd look.

"They don't suit you," Hermann says with a frown.

"I liked you better when you were a pancake," Newt replies pulling a face and turns to Katz. "Food? Soon? Please?"

"We're working on it," Katz says.

"You can get a pair of glasses that are pretty close to my prescription but you can't get food?" Newt says incredulously and Katz shrugs.

"We've got a guy on staff who's blind as a bat and just got a new pair. We _don't_ have a _cordon bleu_ chef just hanging around waiting to make you a sandwich."

"How about a granola bar? Cookie? I'm pretty sure the acid's eaten through my stomach lining and is making a break for my liver at this point." Newt's not above begging now; his stomach has that low, hollow feeling and the anticipation of the loud growl that's going to sound in the future is making him slightly anxious.

"Sorry. You're just going to have to wait a little longer," Katz says. "Take a look at the data and let us know if you find anything. TIme'll fly by. I gotta get back to the blood work."

Katz walks off and Newt picks up the tablet with his name stuck to it on a post-it and throws himself down on the bed to send an email before he starts going through the data.

>   
> **To:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Kaiju Sample: Taurax - Oral Gland  
>  **Priority:** Urgent
> 
> Exercise extreme caution around the gland harvested from Taurax. Contents appear to be highly pressurized and _will_ melt through a CA visor.  
> 
> 
> Recommend using full isolation for study.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

An hour passes in silence broken only by Newt stealing a piece of Hermann's paper and a pencil and Hermann grumbling about wasted resources. Katz sends him an email with the medical LAN details and he spends half an hour staring at the results of the mass-spec in bafflement. He sends her an email with a list of tests he thinks they should run and spends twenty minutes drawing the various molecular structures to try and make sense of them before dinner is finally served.

"This thing's got chess on it," Newt says, gesturing to his tablet, as he sets his tray down on his rolling table. "You want to play while we eat? You can be white."

"Don't be foolish," Hermann says, pushing his tray to the side of his own table and patting the empty space. "I'll be black."

Newt snorts and pulls his table over so he can sit on the end of Hermann's bed. He settles in and makes his first move before putting the tablet on the table and turning to his food. It's the same stuff everyone gets served in hospital - scentless, benign and devoid of allergens and flavour - but by that point Newt's so hungry he'd seriously been considering eating the paper he'd stolen from Hermann just to give his stomach something to work on. He's shovelling the food into his face as fast as he possibly can and it feels so good filling him up that he's making little noises of enjoyment and when he looks up Hermann's looking at him with distaste.

"Wha?" He asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Your eating habits have never been anything to write home about, but they're especially appalling today," Hermann says with a shake of his head.

"I haven't eaten since six a.m., dude," Newt says around a mouthful. "You try travelling all day, cataloguing shit, being exposed to fucking crazy-ass alien goo, having a shower so cold your balls cozy up to your lungs, and we'll see how good your table manners are."

Hermann sniffs and pushes the tablet back toward Newt before picking up his fork and taking a delicate bite, as if to show Newt what a philistine he is.

Newt rolls his eyes and looks at the tablet, playing out three moves ahead for each piece he considers and trying to work out which of Hermann's next possible moves is most likely. He makes his move and goes back to eating. The next few moves are made in silence - Newt too preoccupied with eating and Hermann too... _Hermann_ to make conversation.

Newt's making a move and thinking he might see a path to victory when something dings in his brain.

"Huh," he says and turns to look at Hermann with a frown. "You do respect me."

"What gives you that impression?" Hermann says with a sniff, focussing very intently on the chessboard.

"Nonono, you can't fool me that easily. You _respect_ me. And you want _other people_ to respect me, too," Newt wags a finger at Hermann accusingly. "I'm onto you."

"What on earth are you rabbiting on about?" Hermann squints at Newt and watches as he makes his move and places the tablet on the table close to Hermann.

"You refer to me as 'Dr. Geiszler' in front of other people. You want people to treat me with as much respect as you want to be treated with. You think I'm _worthy_ ," Newt says with a flourish.

"Praise be," Hermann says with a roll of his eyes. "Apparently you're not incapable of logical thought."

"Wait, so you _knew_ you were doing it? It's not some subconscious thing that means you secretly like me?" Newt asks and slumps a little.

"Of course I knew, you imbecile," Hermann says, shoving the tablet back. "We _deserve_ respect. We are not spotty little nerds sitting in the basement playing dungeons and dragons all day. We are directly contributing to the war effort and people need to remember that."

"Oh," Newt says and picks up the tablet, staring at it blankly.

"Yes, 'oh'," Hermann says and returns to his meal.

Newt stares at the tablet for a while, putting pieces together and vaguely contemplating the board. "I think you're wrong," he says, making his move and nudging the tablet back toward Hermann. 

"Pardon?" Hermann says with a brief questioning glance up before returning his attention to the game.

"We _are_ friends." Newt shrugs and looks at his tray. It's empty, so he wipes up the remnants with a finger and restrains himself from literally picking it up and licking it clean.

"Are we now?" Hermann says throwing a disparaging look at Newt.

"Yeah, we are." Newt eyes Hermann's half empty tray. "You going to finish that?"

Hermann glances away from the tablet, rolls his eyes and waves his hand for Newt to take it, which he does and starts shovelling the food into his mouth at speed. He can't remember being this hungry - or shitty food tasting this good.

"We already do things friends do - we eat together, argue about things, you've got my back if shit hits the fan, and I've got yours if you ever need it. We're friends." Newt raises his eyebrows at Hermann who opens his mouth, pauses, and then closes it with a sigh.

"Stalemate," Hermann says, pushing the tablet across the table and leaning back to rest against the wall.

"Ha, told you. Y'know, you could just say 'Yes, Newt, we're friends,' instead of admitting that you can't argue your way out of it," Newt says, and he's licking Hermann's plate clean, too.

"No, it's an actual Stalemate. You can't move your king without it being taken by either of my knights. You're cornered," Hermann says and picks up his stack of papers.

"Oh. Rematch?" Newt asks and stacks their trays, walking across the room to put them in the drawer for collection.

"Maybe later. Or tomorrow. I have work to do." Hermann sniffs and starts writing and then he's lost to the world of numbers and symbols and Newt knows he's not going to get his attention again for hours. 

Newt pulls his table back to his side of the room and flops onto his bed, picking up the tablet to see if Katz has gotten back to him about the tests. Before he knows it, hours have passed and the lights are dimming. He watches through the window as the nightshift comes in and the dayshift leaves. Katz passes by and waves to him and he raises a hand and looks back at his tablet with a sigh.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hermann stand to start his stretches and he lets his tablet fall to the mattress and pushes himself up. He steps carefully around Hermann and enters the bathroom. Flipping the switch and closing the door, he steels himself and stands in front of the mirror. 

Hermann was right - the glasses don't suit him, but that's not what holds his attention. The rash on his face is a vivid pink, blotchy and looking like some kind of half-assed attempt at Ziggy Stardust. It's darkest on his cheekbone where the stream first came through the visor, and there's a streak from his forehead, over the bridge of his nose and down to his jaw, with little dots spattering a swath across his face on either side. He's lucky he was wearing his glasses or he might actually be blind right now.

He raises a hand and touches it gingerly; it's lumpy and tingles where his fingers brush. Lifting the glasses onto the top of his head, he leans in close to get a look at it without his eyes trying to adjust for the wrong prescription. It still looks like kind of like hives, but not quite. It could just be a mild allergic reaction - it wouldn't be the first time, but he's learned not to be complacent about these things.

Lifting his shirt as he slides the glasses back onto his nose, he runs a hand over his chest and squints at the design. He can only see the slight discolouration because he knows his tattoos so well, he doesn't really blame Katz for not being able to recognise the difference.

He washes his face again, just to be sure, and brushes his teeth. He resists the urge to put things on it - toothpaste, mouthwash, whatever he has at hand - just to see what will happen and considers asking Katz for some cortisone. He dismisses the idea with a shudder, imagining any part of a kaiju on steroids, even mild ones.

He's taking a piss when he hears Hermann knock on the door with the head of his cane and shouts that Hermann will just have to wait his turn. He takes his sweet time finishing up before washing his hands and opening the door to let Hermann in with a bow and a flourish.

"It's all yours," he says and then steps quickly back as Hermann brushes past him. "You could wait until I'm out of the room, man." Newt pulls a face at Hermann.

"Isn't this what _friends_ do?" Hermann asks archly as he walks over to the toilet.

"Ha." Newt pulls the door closed, poking his tongue out as Hermann smirks at him and undoes the drawstring on his scrubs as the door clicks shut.

Newt pulls back the covers and crawls under, picking up his tablet to continue working while Hermann finishes his 'nightly ablutions', as he calls them. He's making a note when Hermann walks in and switches off the light, climbing into bed with a groan.

"Turn it off, Newton," Hermann says tiredly.

"Just gimme a sec," Newt says fingers flying over the screen's keyboard at speed as he tries to get the thought out.

"Five... four... three... two..."

"I'm done, I'm done!" Newt says, powering down the tablet's screen and shoving it on the table, setting his glasses on top of it before lying down with a huff.

"Good. Now go to sleep."

Newt lays back and stares at the ceiling. He's been going all day, but he's not tired. He's tingly and uncomfortable and still a little hungry, but he's yet to hit tired. He rolls on his side and closes his eyes, listening to the sounds of the room, the distant beeping of monitors outside, and Hermann's steady breathing. He can see the dim light behind his eyelids and he's been so long in his windowless room in the bowels of the Shatterdome that he's started to feel uncomfortable trying to fall asleep unless it's pitch black.

"Sorry about your slippers," he says quietly to gauge if Hermann's still awake.

"I don't care about my slippers," Hermann responds grumpily.

"They were good, though. Really helped." Newt rolls on his back and stares at the ceiling. "I'll get you a new pair."

"Yes, you shall," Hermann says and he's rolling onto his back, too. They're side by side and staring at the same ceiling and Newt begins to wonder if this is what it would be like if- He shakes his head and rolls onto his side.

"Can they have bunnies on them?" Newt asks because he knows it'll irritate Hermann and that'll make it easier.

"No, they may not have bunnies on them," Hermann says and he sounds vaguely affronted.

"I'm getting you bunny slippers," Newt says with a grin.

"Oh for- Go to _sleep_ , Newton." 

Newt laughs quietly to himself and rolls onto his stomach. Lifting the pillow, he covers his head and pulls the blanket up around his neck, leaving a small space for him to breathe fresh air. It still takes him a while to fall asleep, but he does so content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know about that blockquote. I know that blockquote looks stupid. I fought with that blockquote for over an hour and nothing I did made AO3 stop putting para tags where they weren't wanted. If anyone knows how to fix that blockquote, _please_ let me know ~~as there are many more block quotes to come~~.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No serious warnings that I can discern.

The next morning, Hermann is up before him quietly doing his stretches as Newt raises his head and blearily blurts "Coffee?"

"Go back to sleep, Newton. I'll wake you when breakfast arrives," Hermann says softly straining towards his knee; it's always surprised Newt how flexible he can be. 

Newt buries his head in his pillow and slips into a doze, dreaming that Hermann's a contortionist who can take out his heart and put it on a shelf, and Newt's a set of conjoined twins cursed to tell the truth and never be believed. He also had a puppy named Tesla and he spends half the dream trying to get back to the part with the puppy.

The next time he wakes it's to Hermann poking him with his cane.

"Breakfast is here," Hermann says and Newt sits up, fumbling for his glasses. As he slides them onto his nose, he can see that Hermann's placed the tray on his table and he just has to pull it forward to reach his coffee.

"Mm, breakfast in bed. A man after my own heart," Newt says, dumping four sugar sachets into the cup and crossing his legs to lean back against the wall. Holding the cup up to his nose he inhales and lets out a happy sigh before taking a sip and letting the steam warm his face. He drinks half the cup with his eyes closed, and when he is finally caffeinated enough to pay attention to his surroundings, he sees Hermann sitting on his own bed - which he'd made, the _nerd_ \- staring at him with narrowed eyes and a slightly confused expression. "What? Do I have drool on my face?"

Hermann shakes his head and looks away, focussing on his tea. "Dr. Katz stopped by while you were sleeping. She said she'd run the tests and that you should take a look at the networked folder."

"Sweet. Give me the tablet." Newt holds out a hand, snapping his fingers, as he focusses on setting the coffee cup back on the table carefully. When he looks up, Hermann's holding the tablet to him with a narrow-eyed glare. "What?"

"I'm not your ruddy manservant," Hermann grouses and drops the tablet on Newt's bed before making his way towards the bathroom.

"You say that, but, check it: you got me the thing I wanted," Newt picks up the tablet and waves it at Hermann with a smug grin. 

Hermann sniffs and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a peevish click.

Newt snickers to himself and picks up a piece of toast, munching on it absently as he goes over the results. His good mood fades as he reads, brow furrowing as he flicks Katz an email. He's pacing in front of the window by the time Hermann exits the bathroom.

"What's got you so worked up?" Hermann asks with a frown on seeing Newt's hair, spiked into disarray by anxious fingers. "Did you get the results? Is there something wrong?"

"There's something wrong, alright," Newt says, peering out the window and then smacking his hand against it. "Katz! Hey, Katz! It's about goddamn time. What do you _mean_ it's bonded with my DNA?!"

"Exactly what it says on the can," Katz says, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her lab coat as she shrugs and walks over. 

"But that doesn't make _any_ sense. Why would it even-" 

"Can somebody _please_ explain to me what is going on?" Hermann says coming to stand behind Newt with a huff.

"We introduced some of the glandular fluid to a clean blood sample and were able to infect it, but when we added Newt's blood to a clean blood sample nothing happened. Whatever it is, it's present in Newt's bloodstream, but it shows no sign of cross-infecting," Katz says, looking directly at Hermann. "There's no sign of it in yours, so you should be okay, but we'll be taking more blood in about an hour to do follow up tests before we release you."

"Oh good," Hermann says with a roll of his eyes, sneer pulling his upper lip back in a harsh line. "Wonderful news. I've always wanted to spend an extended period of time trapped in a small room with a slowly mutating colleague. Tell me, when do you think the personality changes will begin? Can I put in a request for a _weapon_ of some description?"

"Shut up, Hermann. This is a shatterdome, not the Thunderdome. " Newt says over his shoulder, not taking his eyes of Katz. "You said it was multiplying?" He directs the latter to Katz.

"Looks that way. Whatever it is, it's sluggish in the sample, almost like it needs a body to survive, but it _is_ replicating itself. Slowly. No, we don't know why, or what it's doing," Katz shrugs again and looks over her shoulder. "If I had my way you'd be in an MRI ASAP, but I've been given explicit orders not to potentially contaminate one of the most expensive piece of equipment we have on-site. It's going to have to wait until you're out of quarantine."

"Awesome," Newt says staring down Katz with an unimpressed look that would rival the blankest of Hermann's judgmental stares. "Okay, here's what you're going to do..." Newt rattles off every test he can think of that might give them _any_ idea at all of what the hell it's doing in, and/or _to_ , his body.

"Okay," Katz says with a raised eyebrow. "I'm going to run about a third of those tests. Buhbuhbuh-" Katz holds up a hand as Newt begins to protest. "We're keeping tabs on everything you're eating so we'll _know_ if this thing is lactose intolerant-"

"You can't use me as a guinea pig for your tests! That's-"

"Would you prefer we restrict _all_ your food? Because we can do that," Katz stares him down and Newt can feel his stomach tighten at the thought.

"No. No, I'm good. But half of those tests aren't useless. The more data we have-"

"The more data we have to sift through, the more chance we have of missing something important." Katz looks over her shoulder again and waves at someone to wait. " Look, I know you're freaking out in there, but you _know_ we need to refine the search rather than just throw everything at the wall and see what sticks." Katz looks off to the side and makes a face, holding up two fingers. "Look, I gotta go. We'll work it out."

She walks away leaving Newt sputtering and Hermann staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I was mostly joking about the mutation, but you most definitely do not sound healthy right now." Hermann takes a step back and Newt can see that he's adjusting his grip on his cane.

Newt sits heavily on the bed, holding his head in his hands as he mutters and swears. 

"Ugh. I should be out there running the damn tests myself," he says, digging the blunt tips of his fingernails into his scalp in frustration. "I'm the-"

"It's protocol, Newton. You-"

"I know what the goddamn protocol is, Hermann," Newt snaps, glaring up at Hermann. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm the foremost cryptozoologist in this Shatterdome - if not _the entire fucking world_ \- and I'm stuck in a room I can't leave with a dude who thinks I'm a _moron_. So, if it's all the same to you, I'm going to be over here being _really fucking angry_ at the fact that _I'm_ my best chance I have to figure out what the fuck is going on _inside_ me and there is sweet fuck all that I can do." Newt grabs the tablet and swipes angrily through the data he's already looked over a dozen times. He knows he's not going to find anything new, but some small part of his brain hopes something will leap out at him.

"We're being released in a few hours. You'll be able to-"

" _You're_ being released in a few hours," Newt cuts him off, poking at the touchscreen harder with irritation. "You're clean. They're going to keep _me_ for another day now that they've found something. And that's going to be another day where shit's going down _in my body_ pretty much unchecked."

"It will all work out," Hermann says, patting Newt's shoulder arrhythmically. "Dr. Katz is competent and-"

"If you're getting brain surgery, do you want the _competent_ surgeon, or the dude that's stuck in quarantine?" Newt asks, looking up at Hermann tiredly. "Katz is great... but she's not _me_."

"I am sure that she will suffice until such a time as you are able to run your own diagnostics," Hermann says with a determined nod.

"Stop trying to be sympathetic, Hermann. You're really bad at it. Like, worse-than-me bad. Wait, are you going to be sick?" Newt squints at Hermann and adjusts his glasses - Hermann's gone an almost unnatural shade of white and his teeth are clenched tightly causing his jaw to jut out in a way that on anyone else would look defiant, but just makes Hermann look like he's holding down his breakfast by force of will.

"I... am fine. Eat your breakfast." Hermann turns on his heel and walks into the bathroom like he wasn't just in there three minutes ago.

Newt stares at Hermann's back as he closes the door before rolling his eyes and going back to the data; there has to be _something_ in the mass-spec results.

The rest of the morning passes without incident: Hermann eventually comes out of the bathroom and refuses to acknowledge that anything is off with him, Brian arrives and takes more samples, and Newt spends two hours before lunch pacing in front of the window trying to get Katz's attention so he can yell at her a little.

Hermann looks a little green as he watches Newt eat his lunch when it finally arrives, but he hands over everything he doesn't eat without protest. There's still three hours left until they're released and the results that have been slowly trickling in from Katz don't help make anything clearer. 

"It's self-replicating and doesn't do well without a body to sustain it, so it could be a virus or a parasite or... I could be taken out by the kaiju version of the common cold." Newt's pacing again and Hermann's watching him go back and forth like a spectator at a particularly slow tennis match. "Jeez, that'd fucking suck."

"Why would a Kaiju have a gland that sprayed out _the cold virus_? Wouldn't that just mean it was infected or a carrier itself? It could still mean that the gland _was_ salivary as you expected," Hermann points out from his position on the bed, pencil poised over the paper as if he'd been caught mid-thought.

"I guess it could b- No, it doesn't cross infect. It's got a purpose - it's _bonded_ to my DNA. I mean, I could bleed all over you and you'd be fine," Newt pauses and looks over at Hermann. "Well, maybe a little mental trauma."

Hermann rolls his eyes and returns to his work leaving Newt to pace and mutter to himself until Katz arrives twenty minutes before their scheduled release.

"Good news... for Hermann. There's nothing showing up in your labs, so you'll be free to go in about half an hour," she says and turns to Newt with a sympathetic twist of her lips.

"Told you," Newt mutters to Hermann and stares at Katz with an unimpressed sigh. "How long?"

"Another day," she says with a shrug and waits for Newt to finish swearing before continuing. "Hey, I'm pissed about this too. I want you in an MRI _yesterday_."

"Who's your boss? I want to see your boss. I want to explain to him in explicit detail what _noncommunicable_ means. They didn't cover that in the entire ten years of med school? Your boss is an idiot. I want your boss fired," Newt says and his hands are clenched and up in front of him.

"Her _boss_ has an entire shatterdome's welfare to consider."

Newt looks to the side and sees Marshall Pentecost stepping in to view.

"With all due respect, Marshall, you've got _no idea_ what you're talking about. You're military, not medical," Newt says, hands on hips and staring down the Marshall. " _Noncommunicable_. _Not_ communicable. Not _contagious_. It's in _me_ and it's not going to spread to anyone else. And you need me _out there_ working out what the hell is going on, or you could _lose_ me."

"We need you in here under observation in case the situation develops-"

"Would you put Coyote Tango in the shop if there was a kaiju about to destroy a freaking city?" Newt cuts in and he's mentally patting himself on the back for not swearing when he sees that Hermann and Katz are looking very studiously at fixed points in the distance and Pentecost's jaw is tight. "What? Oh, shit. Bad choice, _bad_ choice. Would you put _any_ Jaeger in the shop if it meant a city full of people would die? Because that's what you're doing. You want my help stopping the kaiju? Then you _need_ me out there working out whateverthefuck is going on before it's too late."

Pentecost's jaw is still tight.

"Look, it's not just me you're holding back," Newt says, trying a different tack. "Hermann's work's going to suffer the longer I'm in here. As the only person exposed to the stuff that _can eat through our safety gear_ , I'm the only person that can clean it up. Do you want Her- Dr. Gottlieb's work to suffer?"

Pentecost looks down at Newt, eyes narrowed like a parent that knows their child is up to something suspicious but can't deny the argument. After a long moment in which Newt feels like he's in the world's most aggressive staring contest, Pentecost nods and straightens. "A compromise," he says, holding up a hand and turning to Katz before Newt can protest. "The UN Delegation leaves in five hours. Hold him for six." He turns back to Newt and regards him gravely. "You are to check in every morning and night until this is solved. Medical will be sending me complete reports, so don't think you can miss one."

"Okay, fine," Newt says with a huff. "But if I grow tentacles in the next six hours, it's all on you."

Pentecost shakes his head at Newt, nods to Hermann and walks away without a backward glance.

"You heard the man. Hermann, you're out in twenty minutes. Newt, you've got a date with an MRI in six hours," Katz says and Newt shrugs glumly.

"At least my first date in years is going to be with something that cares about what's inside me."

"Aw, honey," Katz says with a smirk. "It's cute that you think the MRI cares."

Newt pulls a face. "Just for that, I want you to spend the next six hours finding things to a) detect, and b) destroy this stuff. I need the luminol and bleach of kaiju goo. Try anything that'll destroy plastic, break down silicone, or just fuck shit up in general."

"You that keen to get back to work, huh?" Katz asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I got foreign matter doing crazy shit to my innards. What do you think? Go. _Do_." Newt waves his hand and flops down onto the bed with the tablet holding it over his head for a moment before placing it gently on his face and letting his arms fall to the sides.

"So, er, I guess I shall see you tomorrow," Hermann says sitting delicately on the edge of his own bed, looking towards the glass door where Brian is suiting up beyond the containment zone.

"Yeah. I'll head to the lab and get it cleaned up when I get out of here," Newt says not opening his eyes. "If everything goes according to plan - ha! - you should be back at work in the morning."

"No-... No rush," Hermann says awkwardly and Newt has to lift the tablet to peer out at Hermann.

"What were you saying about personality changes? Should _I_ be requesting a weapon?" Newt says and Hermann does that thing where he's caught between sneering and shaking his head and just ends up staring into the middle distance looking disgruntled.

"Forgive me for considering your welfare. I'll try not to let the infection ravaging your body affect my judgment again," Hermann says and gathers up the paper's he's been working on and takes them to the glass door where Brian's waiting with a digital camera. He holds one up and waits for Brian to take the picture before holding up the next. 

Newt can only stare at him in bafflement before dropping his head back to the bed and pulling the pillow over his face. "It's not an infection. My white count is normal," he says into the pillow as if that will make Hermann see reason about whatever's got his panties in a bunch this time, but Hermann doesn't respond and Newt has to pull the pillow away when the air he's breathing gets damp and gross.

"You're all set to go, Dr. Gottlieb," Brian says hand hovering on the door handle as he looks over at Newt. "Dr. Geiszler, please stay back as Dr. Gottlieb exits."

Newt waves a dismissive hand at Brian and rolls his head to the side to watch Hermann go. 

"I'll see you... in the morning," Hermann says and turns and Newt could swear he hears a muttered _god willing_ as Hermann steps away.

"Check your email when you get up tomorrow, I'll let you know if it's safe."

Hermann looks over his shoulder, nods once, and is gone into the decontamination area leaving Newt alone with a tablet full of data he can't make fit into a workable solution - or even just a general overview - and a stomach that's starting to rumble. Looking at the clock, he groans and pulls the pillow back over his head; with all the nothing he's currently able to do, he might as well nap until they decide it's time to feed him.

He wakes groggily three hours later to Brian leaving in his airtight rubber suit, and a tray of food on the table. He goes over his email as he eats - Katz recommends a solution of lye to break down the goo until it's inert and she's still working on a detection method. She's had a sample sitting open in a sealed box to check its natural decay rate but the results have been negligible. He's licking the plate clean and checking the time when he realises that Hermann's not there to 'share' his leftovers. His stomach rumbles and he tries to remember if he's always been this hungry but dismisses it as a combination of restricted food intake and nothing to distract him. It doesn't stop him from putting his hand over his stomach and pressing down to hold the growl at bay.

Katz arrives ten minutes before he's due to be left out and she has a curiously pleased expression on her face.

"So, I've found a detection method but, man, the Kaiju are weirder than we thought," she says with a shake of her head.

"Weirder than _you_ thought," Newt says, waving a finger around the rash on his face that's only just beginning to fade.

"I had a black light running while I was trying some stuff and it turns out that it sort of glows in reaction to some sonic frequencies..." she says and she's smirking a little.

" _Some_ sonic frequencies?" Newt asks, curiosity beyond piqued.

"The Doors. It likes The Doors. Tried some Springsteen, wasn't really feeling it. You want to make this stuff _glow_ , go with The Doors. _People Are Strange_ and _The End_ are your best bets." 

Newt stares at her, jaw agape, eyes slightly bugged. "How did you even find that out?" He finally manages to ask her.

"I hum while I work," she says with a shrug. "Either way, you got a way to detect it and a way to destroy it. You'll be back to work figuring this out in no time."

"Sweet, so I can leave now?" Newt says, jumping up and grabbing the tablet. 

"Yeah, Brian's just suiting up to take the last samples and then it's straight to the MRI with you," she says and she's got this glint in her eye like she can't wait to see what this thing is doing inside him.

"Right... Wait, why's he suiting up? I'm being released into the general population. That means I'm _safe_. Ish."

Katz rolls her eyes and looks away for a moment before leaning in close to the window and motioning for Newt to come nearer. "Brian's... well, we think he just likes the suits." 

"Rubber fetish?" Newt asks, not above a little gossip.

"Makes him feel important," Katz responds with a shrug, straightening as Brian opens the door behind Newt and ushers him into the decontamination area and takes a whole new batch of samples - blood, skin, saliva, hair, the works. Just once, Newt would like to leave this place and embrace freedom triumphantly, instead of the whole process being weighed down by the just-in-case samples.

Katz leads him through medical in his scrubs and light slippers and up the stairs to the MRI. He lies in it for twenty minutes with the repetitive thunk-thunk-thunk of the machine and Katz's constant reminders to lay as still as possible. When he gets out, he wanders into the viewing room and peers over her shoulder at the monitors.

"What the hell is that?" He asks, leaning in closer to look at the splotchy and blurred readings.

"I have no freaking clue. I've never seen anything like it before," she says and her hands are flying over the keys, running diagnostics and frowning. "Everything should be fine."

"So, the machine's... broken?" Newt says and he's only seen a few MRI readouts before, but he's pretty sure they shouldn't look like that.

"Or _you're_ broken," Katz says, glaring at the screen. "I'm going to get a work order put on this thing and as soon as the tech's have been over it, we're getting you back in here for another go."

"I can leave now, though, right?" Newt asks.

Katz just waves her hand and Newt's gone before she can put it back on the keyboard.

He doesn't bother stopping off at his quarters to change, just heads straight to the commissary and grabs a few boxes of leftovers and puts them on a tray. He's sitting at a table, shoving everything into his face at speed - he can't remember commissary food tasting this good, but anything's got to be better than that benign dreck in medical - when Tendo walks up and sits sideways on the bench across from him.

"Where are The Spiders From Mars? Should we be worried about an invasion from above, because I don't think anyone's going to be too happy if we have to fight on two fronts," Tendo says and Newt stops with the fork halfway to his mouth before it clicks.

"Oh, the rash?" Newt asks gesturing to his face with a wave of his fork. "Yeah, it's nothing, really. Should be gone in a day or two." 

"Heard things were going down in the labs. Hermann looked like someone pissed in his Wheaties when I saw him earlier," Tendo says taking a sip from his coffee - it's just gone eleven, he doesn't know how that man sleeps.

"Yeah, the lab's contaminated at the moment. I'm going to be spending the night making it habitable so Hermann can get his math on in the morning," Newt shrugs and shoves some more food in his mouth.

"You sure you'll be able to get that place clean? I mean, it's kind of huge. And full of weird shit," Tendo shudders a little and Newt points the fork at him.

"Those samples are not weird. They're prime research material and they're _fantastic_." Newt raises his eyebrow until Tendo backs down and holds up his hands in defeat. "The clean-up shouldn't be _too_ hard, I don't think. Katz - you know Katz, right? In Medical?"

"We may have had a brief dalliance a few months ago," Tendo says with a sly smile.

"And you let her go? She's quality, man. You failed."

"She didn't want long term," Tendo says with a shrug. "Anyway, what about her?"

"She found some stuff that'll detect and destroy the contaminant. I'm totally calling it kaijuminol. You can't stop me." Newt grins at Tendo who just shakes his head with a fond smile. "So, yeah. I don't want to jinx myself, but I _think_ I'll be done by, like, three." Newt jabs his fork into his food and gives Tendo a wide-eyed stare of impending doom.

"And I'll bet you'll go straight to work after. Only you, man." Tendo shakes his head. "Okay, I gotta get back to Ops. I'm going to leave you with that ludicrous amount of food and make tracks," Tendo says, pushing himself to stand and picking up his coffee cups.

"Hey, you try surviving on Medical rations. It tastes bad _and_ there's not very much of it. Like, tiny, bird portions." 

"I'll take your word for that. Later."

"Later," Newt says and returns to his food.

It takes him ten minutes to get through the entire tray and then he's heading down to the lab. The tent's still up over the door, a small thoroughfare left on the far side of the hall, and he unzips it and slips in quickly. He puts on a pair of plastic booties, if only so he doesn't have to wander the halls barefoot to get back to his room, and walks into the lab. Swiping his hand over the light switch, he makes his way into the alcove on his side of the room, past the ratty old, plaid couch that he'd insisted be brought in here for Research Purposes, and over to the stack of boxes containing odds and ends and other paraphernalia that people insisted would never come in handy and then ate their words when they needed something. He finds the portable UV light in the fourth box he looks and shoves everything else back and into the corner. Turning it on he waves it around as he walks towards ground zero.

" _People are strange when you're a stranger_ ," he sings softly as he wands the light back and forth over the ground and the stainless steel table and sure enough, there's a light blue glow that pulses in time to his words. Grinning, he keeps singing as he looks for a clean spray bottle and the small tub of lye he knows is in here somewhere. He finds it, puts on some gloves, and mixes a weak solution of it and takes the spray bottle back to the table.

" _When you're strange no one remembers your name,_ " he sings a little louder, waiting for the trace elements to start pulsing again before spraying it. He continues to sing as he watches the glow fade in places, spraying a few more times to make sure it all goes. Satisfied that it's working, he starts moving around the rest of the space singing his lungs out and spraying the trail spreading from the table to the emergency shower. When he gets there, he finds his glasses sitting where he'd tossed them in the eyewash basin and is horrified to see how much light they give off when he sings to them. 

He considers tossing them out - _knows_ Hermann would want him to - but he's only got the one set spare in his room and who knows how long it'll take to get another. He looks at the bottle of lye in his hand and shrugs, at worst, he ruins them and has to toss them out and he's not really any worse off than when they were covered in mysterious DNA bonding kaiju goo. Spraying them judiciously, he starts singing at the top of his lungs as if the gods of rock will hear his cry and miraculously make his glasses survive the ordeal.

He watches the blue glow fade and when it's gone, he runs water over them and checks them again. The gods must have heard him - Jim Morrisson is up on a cloud somewhere decreeing that the little dude singing his heart out gets to keep his vision - his glasses are undamaged, uncontaminated and perfect. He pulls off the pair he's been wearing and slides his own on and he almost cries at how crisp and perfect everything suddenly is. He can make out everything and his eyes still hurt but his optic nerves are nearly sobbing with relief.

His clothes are still sitting in a sodden pile beside the emergency shower and when he sings to them, they glow a sullen blue. He mourns for the loss of those pants but his soul dies a little at how completely unsalvageable his boots are - glowing tracks show the direction the rivulets flowed and seeped into the padded cushioning around the ankle and there's no way he can get all the goo from them short of setting them on fire. He bags everything up, and then triple bags them for the incinerator and dumps it by the door.

He goes over the rest of his side of the lab singing with renewed vigour. There's a trail of dully glowing footprints leading from behind the table to the door, but they stop in the middle of the room and Newt feels bad for railing against the quarantine procedures towards the end there - maybe he _should_ have let them keep him there another night.

He pushes the thought firmly out of his head - he's out now, it's already too late - and cleans up the residue from the floor, nodding at the few members of the nightshift who walk past and give him strange looks for belting out _Roadhouse Blues_ while staring at the floor. 

Reentering the lab, he gives his side another look under the black light before turning to Hermann's. He doesn't expect to find anything - he'd made a beeline straight for the emergency shower and then sat in the middle of the room. The chair has one drop of blue on it that must have come from his hair and as he watches the glow fade his heart stops and his breath catches in his throat.

He closes his eyes and turns the light slowly towards his arm, forcing himself to start singing. " _Into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown_..." Steeling himself, he opens his eyes and a small sound of dismay escapes his throat at the sight of a blue glow pulsing in his veins fanning out through his hands and down his fingers. The tattoos on his arm throb with life giving Yamarashi an eerie energy and making his stomach drop with a sense of dread.

He shoves the light onto the chair and yanks the thin scrub shirt over his head, dumping it and picking up the light again. He starts to hum, unable to make himself form words and his throat tightens as he sees the glow snaking its way through his abdomen and down under his pants and...

He almost drops the light.

The tendrils run in from his extremities, getting thicker and brighter as they get closer to his core and at the centre, bright and shining and strong and pulsing like a beacon, is his heart. 

Putting out his hand, he sits down heavily in the chair, uncaring of the mild burn forming where his arm meets the puddle of lye. He stares down at the fading swirls and rubs a hand over his face.

"I'm a fucking lava lamp."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First week of posting, first delay in posting. \o/
> 
> Scroll quickly past if you don't want the spoilers.  
> .  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:** Body horror, blood, some gore. To skip it: just stop reading when you hit the large block of italics. Summary in the end notes.
> 
>  
> 
> .

He knows what he should do. He's seen the movies - he _knows_ what happens to the infected asshole who doesn't tell anyone: he seizes and explodes and it's gory and gross and traumatising for everyone involved. He doesn't want to explode. He doesn't want to be John Hurt spread over a table in the dining hall as he unwillingly births new life.

And he will tell. In the morning. He's still his own best chance and he's alone right now. He pulls his shirt back on and locks the door to the lab before sending an email.

>   
> **To:** gottlieb.h@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Lab
> 
> Lab clean. If your worried about contamination, theres instructions on your're desk.
> 
> Come after 9. If doors locked, send for full medteam and advice for full quarantine procedures. 
> 
> Then leave.
> 
> N.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Taking a deep breath he hits send and starts another email.

>   
> **To:** katz.b@medical.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Containment Issue  
>  **Priority:** Urgent
> 
> There's aslight issue. Am current contained. Come to lab as soon as you get this. Its clean. 
> 
> If no ansewr: full quarantine.
> 
> N.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt checks the time - it's three AM, plenty of time to get shit done before Katz comes - and forces himself to do another sweep over Hermann's side of the lab. Finding nothing, he puts the blacklight and spray bottle on Hermann's desk with a printed note to pick his favourite Doors song and hum it. Heading back to his side of the room, he pulls out a containment box, puts a few sample jars inside it and wheels it over to the refrigeration units against the back wall. Opening draw double-oh-five, he stares at the shrivelled gland with a sigh before carefully picking it up and setting it inside, sealing it up. He wheels it over to the centre of his space and shifts the arm of the spotlight over the box and flicks it to UV. He hums as he checks the outside of the box and, satisfied that there's nothing, grabs his recorder - which miraculously managed to survive the whole ordeal - and starts recording.

"July twenty-eight, three-forty AM. A day and a half in quarantine later and I've been pronounced not contagious. I'm infected - I'm infected as _hell_ \- but the contaminant has bonded with my DNA and shows no sign of cross-infecting. I've given myself a few hours to try and get as much done as I can before medical personnel show up in the morning. I'm not an idiot, I've confined myself to the lab and, barring any sudden personality changes - ha, fuck you, Hermann - intend to remain here." He sighs and stares at the gland spread out before him. Poking Hermann like that was petty, but... he's infected, he might _die_ , and while he's usually one for grand gestures and public displays, he doesn't want to say anything outright in case, well, in case he _doesn't_ die. That'd be awkward. But at the same time, he wants Hermann to know that, even with all the shit on his plate right now, he was still thinking of him. A little.

"The gland, having been refrigerated for 24 hours, appears to have expelled its entire contents after the initial puncturing. There are signs of decay in the area surrounding the needle mark and god it would be fucking fantastic if these assholes were as fragile in life as they are in death. Seriously, these things decompose faster if you look at them funny. No wonder we're so far behind on having an understanding of their biology. Katz in Medical ran the mass-spec while I was in quarantine, results are available from her, or on my computer: Documents, Kaiju, Taurax, Oral Gland Excretion.mzML." He presses the back of his wrist to his forehead and lets out a deep breath before hanging the recorder from the light and sticking his hands into the gloved sockets in the side of the box. 

"Starting the examination now. The gland's completely deflated, there appears to be a thick layer of the goo that's congealed into a gel - could be its reaction to the cold. I'm collecting all of this and keeping it on..." He pauses and looks over at the refrigeration units, squinting until he finds a spot he can put it. "...the third shelf down in sample fridge two. Hopefully there'll be enough for us to actually get a read on what this shit does in time to save my stupid ass," Newt says as he scrapes as much as he can off the gland and into some of the sample jars. 

He spends the next two hours dissecting the gland, cataloguing every finding in meticulous detail, before fatigue sets in and he has to put his scalpel down or risk slicing a finger open. He pushes the entire box into locker double-oh-five and takes down his recorder as he switches off the light. "Scratch that earlier note, all the samples are in the with the gland in locker double-oh-five. Recommend double-gloving for retrieval."

He washes his hands and flops down onto the couch in his alcove and grabs a packet of chips from between the cushions and turns on his tablet. He goes through everything he can find in the database about Taurax. Skimming through everything each of the K-Sci people who were lucky enough to get samples has found in the past day and a half, he cross-references it with similar behaviours and oral excretions in other Kaiju and before he knows it it's nearly seven in the morning, he's on his third bowl of instant ramen and there's a banging on the door.

"If you're in there mutating and I'm not there to see it, so help me, Geiszler, I will _end_ you," Katz yells as Newt runs over to the door and unlocks it. 

Swinging it open, he ushers her in quickly. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Well, mostly. Come in. Quickly." Newt waits until she's through the door and locks it behind her.

"You said there was an issue. What's the deal?" Katz says standing in the middle of the room and staring at him expectantly.

"It, uh, it might be a little easier if I show you," Newt says and pulls his shirt over his head as he starts walking forward.

"Woah, back it up," Katz says, hands up defensively.

"Shit, yeah, sorry, no. I didn't bring you here to, like, impregnate you or anyth- Shit, that sounds awful. Sorry, I watch a lot of late-nineties sci-fi horror. They're kind of... problematic. Uh, I was going for the UV light. It's over there. On Hermann's desk," Newt babbles, pointing at Hermann's desk and giving Katz a wide berth as he makes his way toward it. Picking it up, he walks slowly towards her and hands the light over. "So, yeah. You were right. I'm broken. The MRI didn't like- well, just look. You'll see." Newt holds his arms out to the side and starts singing. " _Well I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer_."

Katz walks toward him warily and holds up the light. "Holy shit, keep singing," she says, and then she's leaning in close to look at the way his skin luminesces with the combination of sound and light.

" _The future's uncertain and the end is always near_ ," Newt keeps singing and he has to look away from her fascination. He's always had a weird fear of being the one on the slab being sliced up, poked and prodded in the name of science. 

Perhaps not so weird, given his line of work.

"Okay, so it's definitely following your veins, concentrated at the heart. The glow is more substantial in the femoral and arterial-" She stops talking and raises the black light to his face. "Holy shit." She pulls out her phone and starts taking pictures. "Keep singing," she commands and he's grateful that she's one of the few decent people to have turned off the shutter sound so he can't hear how thoroughly she's documenting him. "Your face is like the perfect Halloween mask right now. Sort of fanning out along your sinus and glowing brighter in the ocular cavity. Your skull's a little too thick to see any substantial activity in there beyond that, it's mostly just light lines across your scalp. Here, hold this." She hands him the blacklight and takes some full body shots, slowly moving around him to document his back.

"At least we have a way to document its progress if the MRI's out of the question," she says as she straightens and comes to stand before him, staring at his chest as the glow fades away.

"Awesome," Newt deadpans, switching the light off and putting it back on Hermann's desk. "You're going to put me back in quarantine, aren't you?"

"Not necessarily," Katz says staring at him with a frown. "I'll take some more samples, but as far as we can tell, it's inwardly focused. It's mapping out your systems - to what end, I've got no clue - but it's showing no signs of motivating outwards. The fact that it's mimicking your DNA well enough to not be attacked by your immune system is worrying, as is the fact that it's in your brain." She pauses and Newt rolls his eyes at her, picking up his shirt to slip it back over his head.

"Exactly. It's in my _brain_. It could take over at any moment. I can't be around the general population safely."

"Medical's quarantine room isn't designed to hold anyone who turns violent, which is a possibility in this case. If you want to get out of that room, you _will_ get out of that room and there'll be _so_ much collateral damage. Half the patients we have are immuno-compromised from Kaiju Blue, they can't run, they can't fight back. Even if we station soldiers outside, our best case scenario is that they shoot to kill, and we need _you_ working on this in case the Kaiju ever manage to expose a population to this. I'd love to be the one riding in and saving the day, but my focus is palliative care and reversing the effects of Kaiju Blue. I'm the most qualified to deal with this, but that's like saying a plumber's qualified to be a dentist because they deal with calcium deposits," Katz says and sighs. "Look, we can keep you contained in here. Your quarters are down the hall, right?" 

"Yeah, but you can't just leave me in here with Hermann _knowing_ that shit might go down at any moment. He's already convinced Pentecost thinks he's expendable," Newt says and pinches the bridge of his nose. This entire situation is fucked.

"So... we'll put you in a HazMat suit and give Gottlieb a panic button - Security and Medical can be here in two minutes, tops," Katz counters.

"You think I can't do any damage in two minutes? He's up that ladder half the time - he's a sitting duck."

"We'll put ankle weights on you, slow you down... And maybe help you lose a little of that weight. You look puffier in the face than yesterday," Katz says like she's just noticing it.

"I've barely slept in more than twenty-four hours, of course I'm a little puffy. _You're_ a little puffy," Newt rubs his eyes and lets out a sound of frustration. "Sorry. Tired. Do you think Pentecost will spring for a guard detail for Hermann?"

"Tell you what, I'll go get everything I need to take samples and call him down here. Lock the door after me." Katz brushes past him and out the door and Newt's left alone considering his life choices.

Twenty minutes later, there's a banging on the door and Newt unlocks it to let Katz back in with the trolley she's wheeling behind her.

"Did you just pack up everything in Medical and bring it down here?" Newt asks, staring at the pile of stuff.

"Pfft, like I was going to carry everything we need down here," Katz says picking some stuff up and putting it to the side. "Okay, I got these ankle weights from Physio. Put them on and see how it feels." 

He sits and straps the weights on, getting a feel for them before standing up. "Not sure they're going to do much good," he says dubiously as he takes a few steps.

"Run in them," Katz tells him and Newt gives her a look.

"I don't run unless something's chasing me," Newt says giving her a look.

" _I_ will chase you if you don't do what I say. Pentecost's on his way down here. Do you want to give him a good argument, or do you want him to have you thrown in the brig for safekeeping?" Katz raises an eyebrow at him and Newt starts to jog. 

The weights slow him down a little, but he's pretty sure if he really wanted to haul ass, he could.

"They're not doing much. Just chafing a little," Newt says, wishing he had socks.

"S'okay, I brought more than one." She holds up another pair with a smug grin and he flops back down in the chair to wrap them around his calves.

He gets up and jogs around the room. These slow him down much more and make his footfalls heavier - if nothing else, Hermann will _hear_ him coming; there's no chance of stealth with these things on.

"Okay, this could work," he says and bounces up and down on the spot a little. He looks over at the clock and it's nearly eight. "Shit, start taking your samples. Hermann's coming in after nine."

Katz pulls out her gear and sets to work, taking blood, hair and skin samples. She's just taking the last of the oral swabs when Pentecost enters.

"Dr. Katz. Dr. Geiszler," he greets in a civil tone. "This had better be important."

"So, uh, there was a slight complication with my release..." Newt begins and Katz gives him a look and steps in front of him.

"Sir, it appears the contaminant has infected all of Newt's systems. At this stage we can't say what it's trying to do. It appears to be mapping out his systems, concentrated in the bloodflow. It caused interference with the MRI, but we found another way to track its progress," she picks up the blacklight and motions for Newt to take his shirt off. "Time to sing for your supper, Newt."

Newt sighs and looks away from Pentecost. " _Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel._ " 

"I hope you didn't bring me down here just to sing to m-" Pentecost says but then he's leaning forward to stare at the play of colour under Newt's skin. "Why isn't Dr. Geiszler back in quarantine?" He asks, looking directly at Katz.

"For exactly the same reasons that we released him. He's still not contagious. I've got more samples from him to confirm that that's still the case but, he's better to us out here," Katz says straightening her posture and looking the Marshall directly in the eye. "We're taking steps to keep him contained in case the situation does escalate, but we need him looking into this: my research areas barely overlap with his, and there's no one else in medical who even comes close. If this situation does escalate, we need to know what it's doing, how to contain it and, potentially, reverse the effects. If a future Kaiju manages to spray that substance over a populated area, we _need_ to know how to deal with it."

"Assuming I take it under advisement that this is as serious as you make it out to be, yet not serious enough to confine Dr. Geiszler to a secure location, what exactly are you asking me to do?" Pentecost stares the both of them down, to the point where Newt shrinks away a little, and that's not usually his style.

"Post a security detail outside," Newt blurts and Pentecost raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "So, we're putting together a, sort of, mobile containment unit. There's a HazMat suit and I've got these ankle weights on, and Dr. Katz has a panic button to give to Hermann but..." Newt bites his lip in frustration - Hermann's going to kill him for saying this, but, hey, he might die anyway so why not go out in a blaze of glory. "Herm- Dr. Gottlieb thinks that _you_ think he's expendable. If you leave me in here with him, that's going to all but confirm it. I can't really work anywhere else, and you're not gonna move Herm- Dr. Gottlieb, so I need you to ensure his safety."

"You think he might become violent?" Pentecost asks Katz.

"It's a possibility we can't rule out," she replies.

"And yet you felt safe enough to be alone in a room with him when that change could occur at any moment?" Pentecost raises an eyebrow and Katz shrugs.

"I was training at Quantico before K-Day. I gained certificates in hand-to-hand and weaponry before I joined the PPDC Medical Research Division. I felt I would have been able to handle the situation," Katz says holding her hands behind her back and widening her shoulders.

Pentecost levels an unimpressed look at her. "Regardless of how well you may think you would be able to handle it, you are not to enter into a potentially dangerous situation alone again. I need my people safe." Pentecost stares at Katz until she nods and gives a chastened _yes, sir_ , before he turns his gaze to Newt. "I will authorise a guard detail for the lab. They will escort you to and from your quarters and anywhere else you may need to go. They will be your shadow. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. Yes, sir. Marshall. Sir," Newt says and he's never really had a fear of god, but he's sure as hell got a fear of having this man's disapproval turned on him. Or at least a pants-shittingly deep respect.

"Very well, security will be here within the half hour," Pentecost says as he turns towards the door. "I had better see some results from this gamble, Dr. Geiszler; your future at the PPDC depends on it." Newt watches him leave, staring until the door clangs shut behind him.

"Well, that was depressingly ominous," Newt says with a shaky laugh as he turns to Katz. "I gotta get into the HazMat suit - Hermann'll be here soon."

When Hermann walks in at two minutes past nine, Katz has Newt running in circles despite Newt's protests that it's just going to help him acclimatise to the weight change.

"What on earth is going on? What are you doing and why is there a soldier standing outside the door?" Hermann demands, stopping dead in his tracks a metre inside the lab.

"Katz, you got the thing?" Newt asks over his shoulder as he starts walking towards Hermann before stopping suddenly and backing up. "So, uh, I'm potentially not as safe as we thought?" Newt says and Katz smacks his shoulder as she walks past.

"You are so bad at this. How many doctorates do you have? How many defenses did you do? How did you not get any better at delivering results?" Katz rolls her eyes and stops in front of Hermann. "Very little has changed since yesterday, Dr. Gottlieb. The contamination is still focused on Newt and is showing few signs of branching out. However, we're now aware that it's in his brain-"

"Oh good," Hermann says drolly. "What were you saying about this _not_ being the Thunderdome?" Hermann sneers at Newt over Katz's shoulder.

"Hear her out, Hermann," Newt says tiredly and smacks himself in the visor when he tries to rub his face. 

It's going to be a long day.

"We've taken steps to keep him contained, as you can see, but we need whatever research he can do in the interim, whatever the ultimate reaction may be. We've also taken steps to ensure your safety. The guard outside is a first responder, and this-" Katz holds up the panic button and hands it to him. "...will get Security and Medical teams here within two minutes. Pressing once will set off the alert and dispatch will send a security team right away. Pressing and holding will alert dispatch that they should be on their guard. Pressing multiple times will really annoy dispatch, but they'll still send people. Keep it somewhere easily accessible. You got all that?"

"I- I do. Thank you, Dr. Katz," Hermann says, seeming a little pale as he looks from the panic button in his hand over to Newt.

"You're not expendable, Herm," Newt says with a shrug. "We all set here now? 'cos I've got work to do."

"We're all good," Katz says and starts piling everything up onto the trolley. "I'm out. Remember to call me if anything starts feeling strange or wrong, ok? No more of this email in the middle of the night bullshit. _Containment Issue_? Really?"

"Yeah, I got it," Newt says with a wave of his hand. "Do I come to medical for the check up, or are you gonna come down here?" He asks and Katz looks at him appraisingly.

"I'll come down here. Call me when Dr. Gottlieb goes to dinner," she says and then she's walking out and leaving him alone with Hermann. 

"Thank you," Hermann says quietly as he looks over the note on his desk. "For your precautions. They are appreciated."

"Eh," Newt says with a shrug. "I gotta work. You gotta work. This way we both get to work."

"Still, I am- _My favourite Doors song_?!" Hermann cuts himself off, finger thudding into the paper beside the spray bottle labelled kaijuminol.

"Don't blame me," Newt says grabbing the blacklight and taking it over to Hermann's desk. "Katz found that one out all on her own. Ask any of the nightshift; I was singing _Riders on the Storm_ and _Roadhouse Blues_ for hours."

Hermann purses his lips, but says nothing.

"I went over everything last night, but you can do it again if it makes you feel better," Newt says and turns to walk into the alcove and flop back down onto the sofa and man is it uncomfortable in the stupid HazMat suit. He picks up his tablet and tries to swipe it on only to find that the haptic interface can't get a read on his double-gloved fingers and he tosses it to the side in frustration and picks up his laptop, waiting for it to boot up as he listens to Hermann on the other side of the room. " _Love Me Two Times_ , hey? I totally had you pegged as a _Light My Fire_ kind of guy."

"I'm more of a Strange Days than a Self-Titled man," Hermann says conversationally, and if Newt stretches to the side he can just make out Hermann walking around his space with the blacklight. "Though I am quite fond of _Break On Through_."

"Is that breach physicist humor I'm hearing?" Newt asks, leaning over the edge of the couch to grab a wireless mouse so he doesn't have to deal with the trackpad. 

"Well done, Dr. Geiszler. It's almost like you've a basic understanding of my field," Hermann deadpans and Newt rolls his eyes and checks his email.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **Subject:** Re: Kaiju Sample: Taurax - Oral Gland
> 
> Precautions taken. Introduced sample to live subject - a 6-month-old piglet. Piglet is now eating everything in sight. Including its pen. 
> 
> Theorising that substance may make target diminish its own food supply, making way for Kaiju occupation. 
> 
> Suggestions?
> 
> Jai Griggson  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Sydney Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt stares at the email and briefly considers the theory before shaking his head and hitting reply and carefully pecking out a response.

>   
> **To:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Re: Kaiju Sample: Taurax - Oral Gland
> 
> They want us to eat ourselves into extinction? How would that even work? They don't seem the long-con types.
> 
> Besides, I've been exposed and I'm not eating any more than usual.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt minimises the email client and focusses on finishing up trawling through the research he'd highlighted in the early hours of the morning. He works through to lunch, ignoring the growling in his stomach, and realises he's going to have to go back to his quarters to eat. He waves vaguely toward Hermann as he passes through the main area, fatigue beginning to set in, and steps through the door. The tent's still up, which is probably a good thing, and there's a guard standing outside staring straight ahead.

"Hey, uh," Newt glances at his chest for his name. "Corporal Wu. I'm going back to my quarters to shower and eat. You're coming with, yeah?" 

"Yes, sir," the soldier says falling in behind him as he walks up the hall.

"Don't give me that 'sir' crap. You can call me Newt," Newt says and walks a little faster - the HazMat suit is beginning to smell a little ripe. Well, _he_ is. 

"I won't be doing that, sir," Wu says keeping pace.

"You won't, huh?" Newt says, turning bodily to look at Wu.

"I value my commission more than your sense of camaraderie, sir," Wu says and Newt nearly trips over his weighted feet.

"I like you, Wu," Newt says with a chuckle. "Sassy even though I could report you. Y'got guts, kid."

"People who request to be called by their first names don't tend to be the reporting types, sir," Wu says as they stop outside Newt's quarters, Wu taking a position just off to the side of the stairs. Newt looks down at him consideringly.

"Smart, too. You gunning for a promotion? I'll put in a good word for you," Newt says and Wu straightens a bit.

"That won't be necessary, sir. Really," Wu says and he's ramrod straight and Newt can't tell if he actually doesn't want him to put in a good word, or if he really, really does.

"I'll get Dr. Gottlieb to put in a good word for you?" Newt tries, head tilting to the side as he watches Wu curiously.

"That would be appreciated, sir," Wu says and he's staring straight forward. "No offence intended, but-"

"But the word of the guy with no respect for authority doesn't really carry much weight. I get it," Newt says with a shrug and turns toward his door. "I'll be out in about an hour or so. Enjoy the view."

Newt pushes open his door with a shriek of metal on metal and pushes it closed behind him. The first thing he does is unzip and pull off the top half of the HazMat suit and yank off the hood, standing still and sucking in lungfuls of fresh, cool air. He undoes the tape around his wrists and ankles then yanks his arms out of the sleeves, wiping his face off and scratching the itch in the middle of his back he wasn't able to get with the rubber gloves and all those extra layers. Resisting the urge to kick his way out of the bottom half of the suit - damaging it would kind of defeat the purpose of even wearing it in the first place - he flops down on his bed - unmade and double, perks of being a civilian - and carefully tugs them off, laying the suit carefully across the end of the bed before flopping back and staring up at the Godzilla posters on his wall.

He has to eat and he has to shower but he'll be damned if he said he didn't want to just curl up and go to sleep. The growling in his stomach makes the decision for him and he rights himself to pull the case of instant ramen out from under his bed and pull out a cup, ripping off the ankle weights and letting them fall to the floor while he's there. He fills the kettle in his bathroom and sets it to boil as he pulls out some boxers and a t-shirt to wear under the suit. By the time the kettle's finished, he's more than ready to move on. He pours the water and leaves it to sit and all but jumps into the shower, leaving the scrubs in a heap on the floor. 

Soaking under the hot water leaves him feeling sleepy and slow, so he spins the hot water off, blasting himself in the face with cold before stepping out and shivering as he wraps his towel around him and sits on his bed to shovel the food into his face, slurping the broth down like mother's milk and grateful that Hermann's not there to sneer at his eating habits when he knows he's being a complete pig. 

He checks the clock and he's still got about twenty minutes before he has to start putting the HazMat suit back on, so he sets up another bowl of ramen, pulls on his boxers, and lays back on his bed with a tablet. Tapping on his email, there's a response from Griggson.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **Subject:** Re: Kaiju Sample: Taurax - Oral Gland
> 
> I saw you eat when we were at the academy. Hypothesis remains valid.
> 
> There's a vague report on the servers about 'sonic resonance' wrt the substance. Anything further?
> 
> Jai Griggson  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Sydney Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt snorts and flicks back a response.

>   
> **To:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Re: Kaiju Sample: Taurax - Oral Gland
> 
> Grab a blacklight and sing your favorite Doors song to the piglet. 
> 
> Writing up the full report now. Check back in a few hours.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt hauls himself to his feet and bangs on the metal door cracking it open a touch so he can talk.

"Hey, Wu," he says and he can hear Wu readying his weapon. "Hey, no, still me. No danger. Just letting you know I'm staying here to write up some reports. Not, y'know, dying or mutating or anything."

"Close and lock the door, Dr. Geiszler," Wu says and Newt can't see him but he's pretty sure there's a gun pointing his way. "Do not open it again unless you're wearing the HazMat suit. I may bend the rules in conversation, but I'm under strict orders and I will follow them."

"Settle down, alright. I'm just passing on a message," Newt says and he's about to shut the door when he pauses. "Dr. Katz from Medical will be by to take samples later. Let her through or let your replacement know to let her through."

"Close the door, Dr. Geiszler. I'm authorized to use deadly force." Wu doesn't sound like he's messing around. Newt quickly shuts the door, locking it in as obnoxiously loud a way as he can.

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shakes himself out with a shudder. Potential death on all fronts - today is awesome.

He flops back down on the bed with the tablet and starts another email.

>   
> **To:** katz.b@medical.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Checking In
> 
> Staying in my room to write reports without the HazMat suit on. Take the samples from here.
> 
> My quarters are easy to find - it's the one with the guard dog who's authorized to use 'deadly force' standing outside.
> 
> N.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

He hits send and follows it up with one to Hermann.

>   
> **To:** gottlieb.h@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Heads up.
> 
> Staying in my room to write reports without the HazMat suit on. Enjoy the silence.
> 
> Also, put in a good word for Corporal Wu. Kid's smart and we need that. 
> 
> (Apparently my word doesn't mean much given the whole 'aversion to authority' thing. See? Even the grunts respect you.)
> 
> See you tomorrow. 
> 
> N.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

The next two days pass in much the same way. He starts the day getting samples taken then heads to the lab with the security detail. Then he spends the morning trying to wring as much information as he can out of the stupid gland before heading back to his quarters for lunch and spending the afternoon writing reports, exchanging snarky emails with Griggson, and fine-tooth-combing through everything they have so far, waiting for something to jump out at him.

On the third day, he has a minor epiphany and spends the entire day running and rerunning the samples until it's two AM and he's alone in the lab. He doesn't even remember Hermann leaving and he's so tired he thinks he might pass out before getting the HazMat suit off, and sleeping in that thing would just suck too much to even contemplate. 

He stumbles back to his room, the ankle weights making his trudging gait even more slow and plodding, and barely acknowledges the guard dog du jour trailing him as he closes and locks the door and pulls off the HazMat suit and his dirty, sweaty clothes with heavy limbs that barely follow orders. He sits down to rest and before he knows it there's four ramen bowls sitting around him and he feels bloated and gross on top of the tiredness.

He's in the bathroom and he's brushing his teeth and he's hit the point of exhaustion where his body feels wrong; arms and legs not his own, head of cotton wool. He spits and stares, dull-eyed into the mirror - he's doughy around the middle and he feels puffy and bloated and larger than he thinks he used to be and if he stares long enough he thinks he can see his abdomen move and undulate in unnatural and repulsive ways. He looks up into the mirror, staring at himself as though his reflection might have some answers. It shrugs and Newt decides he's too tired for this hallucination bullshit and falls into bed. He's asleep before he can pull the covers up.

He dreams he's piloting a Jaeger. 

_The neural handshake is initiated and the connection is strong. He's two people moving as one. One person moving as two. They're in sync; they know each other. He can't tell where he ends and the other person begins. Their thoughts are his thoughts and his theirs._

_They breathe in unison and they're two-hundred feet tall, arms outstretched as the choppers fly them across the endless ocean to drop them in the shallows off coast of the southernmost island of the Philippines. They land with a thud that sends waves crashing onto the deserted shore, movements heavy and ponderous like their ankles are encased in cement. They stand ready, information filtering in from LOCCENT urgent in their ears and flitting fast over their holoscreens._

_There's a kaiju on the horizon, moving fast toward Mindanao._

_They move._

_Left foot. Right foot. Slow and dragging with the current working against them, but completely in sync. They walk away from the populated areas, drawing the kaiju in with a flare before taking a defensive position and waiting._

_The kaiju hits fast and their systems go down, unresponsive. They're in the dark, still connected, hanging limply in the conn pod but LOCCENT is silent and their screens black as they're knocked onto their backs and sink into the murky depths._

_Their Jaeger's on a gurney under a single bright light as Taurax stands over them, eyes bright and cunning and intelligent as it leans over and delicately picks off pieces of the Jaeger. They're still connected - to each other, to the machine - they feel every piece of the outer shielding being torn away as if it were their own flesh. Taurax's claws dig in deep, cutting through their electrics and hydraulics and he's screaming, they're screaming, there's no sound but his throat is raw and torn._

_The faceplate is lifted from the head of the Jaeger and Taurax peers in and plucks his co-pilot out of the cockpit. Newt can feel the claws digging into his abdomen, cutting and slicing and there's blood gushing down his side and why aren't they screaming? He can feel them in his head and they're known and unknown and the claw has punctured his lung and his breath is coming in short, hard, painful gasps he's being cut from sternum to crotch and he can feel his organs spilling out over his flight suit. He's drowning in his own blood and grasping at the hook holding him in the conn pod struggling to break free and save his co-pilot and then everything goes dark._

_He's surrounded by liquid, warm and thick and there's a red, muted light that's fixed in a spot in the distance. He swims toward it, limbs slow like he's moving through molasses. There's a steady thump-thump in his head - he can feel it vibrate through his entire body - and a rising urgency as he gets closer to the source of the light. He needs to move faster, needs to get out, but his arms and legs are tangling in soft, spongy ropes and he's hit a wall, pliant and thick like some sort of membrane and he's clawing at it and yelling but the liquid fills his mouth and the ropes hold him back. He manages to puncture it with his fingers and the liquid is being sucked up and out through the hole and he's pushing and kicking and struggling to follow it. Squeezing an arm through he widens the gap and pushes his head through, gasping for breath as he hauls himself out and collapses down to rest, legs still dangling in the liquid, tangled in the ropes._

_He breathes in cool air and opens his eyes. The thumping is in his ears now and whatever he's resting on is moving in unison with him. He looks up and tries to scramble back in terror but he's stuck. He's staring at his own face, cold and blue and lifeless, and when he looks down he sees the ripped and torn flesh of his abdomen surrounding his hips and holding him in place, blood seeping out and over the edges of the stainless steel gurney. He's struggling to get out, pulling and pushing and wiggling his body but his hands slip on the wet metal and the spongy ropes - his intestines oh god they're his intestines - tangle him up and try to suck him back inside. He's yelling and sobbing in fear and terror when a hand darts up and grabs him by the back of the head, yanking him down to stare into pale, cloudy, lifeless eyes._

_“I **know** you." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip summary: Portentous creepy gross dream sequence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't guarantee that that table will look any good on mobile devices, but rest assured that it looks really nice for me.
> 
> Keep reading the notes for warnings. Scroll quickly to avoid spoilers. 
> 
> .
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:** Blood. Lots of it. And it's kind of unskippable. A lot of plot-relevant things happen in the first 2k that will make the rest of the chapter (and possibly the rest of the story) confusing if you skip it. And there are references to it throughout. Um. Forewarned is forearmed? Sorry.
> 
> Between "Hey, I put the little packet in." and "Nah, I'm alright." samples are being taken via needle. Skippable.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> .

Newt falls out of bed with a thump and scrambles back until he realises he's awake and he's in his quarters and he's safe. He's safe. He's alive. He's safe. He's _safe_. He falls to the floor and closes his eyes and breathes until the thudding terror leaves his mind. He's still tired and he's sore like he ran a double marathon, limbs and _bones_ aching and he just wants to curl up and go back to sleep. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he feels sweaty and gross and he wonders what the fuck his brain thinks it's trying to pull and his fingers are red and sticky and what the _fuck_. 

He scrambles to sit and his hands slip on the floor and when he looks down his body he can see that he's covered in blood and what the fuck has he done? _What the fuck has he done?!_ He rolls over and pushes himself to his knees, sliding and thumping across the floor to his nightstand where he grabs his glasses and stares down at his body in horror. There's blood everywhere; hands, legs, abdomen, _hair_. It's on the floor and it's dripping out of the bed and there's a body in his bed. He didn't leave a body in his bed. The only body that's ever in his bed is his and he's not in his bed so where the fuck did he get a fucking body? 

He's staring at it and trying to figure out who the fuck it is and has he killed them - oh jesus fuck has he _killed_ someone - when he notices that they're breathing and thank fuck he hasn't killed them but what if they need medical attention what if he's hurt them oh jesus fucking christ what the fucking fuck. He prods them and they groan. He still doesn't know who it is and why they're covered in blood. They're too male to be Katz (thank god), too wide to be Tendo (thank god) or Hermann (thank _god_ ), too soft to be any of the security detail (thank god), and he's just exhausted the list of people his brain can conceivably think of when he's running on panic and fear. He kneels on the bed and grabs a shoulder to roll them over and sees tattoos. Who does he know with tattoos? They look like his tattoos... holy fuck, that's _his face_. He drops to the floor and scrabbles backward until he hits the wall.

That's his face. 

Those are his tattoos. 

That's his body. 

Lying in his bed. 

Covered in blood. 

His mind has gone suddenly, blessedly quiet. He cannot process what he's seeing. If that's him lying in his bed, then... who is he?

He raises a shaky hand to look down at his arm. They look like his hands. Those are his tattoos. They're all there, at least, the ones he can see - Atticon and Yamarashi and Onibaba and Karloff. From where he sits he can see Knifehead and Clawhook and Reckoner on the body in his bed. Is he dead? Is he a ghost?

There's another groan from the bed and he looks up, holding his breath and waiting. He watches as the doppelgänger - he has a fucking _doppelgänger_ \- on the bed goes through the exact same motions as he did: scrubbing his face, finding the blood, scrambling for his glasses. He watches as the other him pats around, getting more and more freaked out that he can't find his glasses, and then he's looking straight at him.

"Who the fuck are you? What have you done?!" That's his voice coming out of his mouth and the recordings didn't lie: he really does sound like that.

"I..." He has no idea how to explain this. Nothing in his experience has ever prepared him for meeting his own blood-covered doppelgänger. These encounters never go well in the movies and he has a feeling shit's about to go downhill fast. "I'll get the spare glasses." He says instead.

"No, you're going to get the fuck out of my room is what you're going to do. I'm in fucking _quarantine_ , man. Fuck it, I'm calling Security." He's scrambling for his phone and Newt's brain starts to hurt at the thought of bringing anyone else into the situation before he even knows what's going on himself.

"Don't! Don't call Security," he says and he's freaking out a little: how the hell does he calm himself down when his self is standing in front of him? "Just... Just let me get the glasses. You'll see. I promise you will see. You won't understand - hell, I _don't_ even understand - but you'll _see_."

"Just tell me who the fuck you are and what you're doing in my room," the doppelgänger yells and then there's a banging on the door and Newt goes still.

"Everything alright in there, Dr. Geiszler?"

Newt can see the doppelgänger drawing breath to start shouting and Newt dives across the room and slaps his hand over his mouth, yanking his glasses off his face and shoving them onto the doppelganger's as he yells: "Sorry, man. Nightmare. I'm okay."

He's close enough that he can see the doppelgänger's eyes go wide as they stare at each other.

The soldier outside the door calls goodnight and Newt breathes a little easier.

"Okay. You see now, right?" He asks and the doppelgänger nods, eyes wide and wild. "So, you're me. You're not stupid. You can see how this situation is a little fucked up. I'm going to take my hand away and you're not going to yell again, right?" 

The doppelgänger nods and Newt removes his hand slowly.

"What the fuck?"

"I think we just found out what the kaiju goo does."

"That's fucked up," the doppelgänger says and Newt rolls his eyes.

"You're telling me," Newt says and sits back on the bed, pulling a face as his hand hits a sticky patch of blood and some kind of mucus. "Can you grab the spare glasses? It's a little weird hearing me talk and not being able to see that it wasn't _me_ who spoke." 

"Sure, just a minute..." the doppelgänger says and Newt can see him stand up shakily and move to the desk, rummaging around.

"So. We're absolutely ruling out alternate universes, weirdass supernatural occurrences, alien abduction gone wrong, and pretty much everything that isn't 'I was exposed to some weird substance and now there's two of me', right?"

"Simplest answer." The doppelgänger shrugs and hands him the spare pair. "Too much blood for anything else, really. And that nightmare..."

"Don't even go there," Newt says, sliding the glasses over his nose and, yup, that's his face staring back at him, looking just as perplexed and queasy as he feels. "So, you're a clone?"

" _You're_ a clone," the doppelgänger counters and walks into the bathroom.

"Fuck you. One of us is a clone, we know that much," Newt says and decides it's way too creepy sitting on a blood-soaked, sticky mattress and stands to start stripping the sheets.

"We just need to work out which one." The doppelgänger stands in the doorway wiping his face with a washcloth and he and Newt stare each other down.

"First kiss?" |   
---|---  
| "Jenny Belcher. Second kiss?"  
"Jeremy Belcher. Second major?" |   
| "Musicology. How did I lose my virginity?"  
"TA at MIT. Who was the TA?" |   
| "Me. What subject?"  
"Fundamentals of Ecology. Why did I crash the car?" |   
| "I saw a dog. What did I tell Dad?"  
"The dog ran out in front of me. Did he believe me?" |   
| "No. How long before he let me borrow the car again?"  
"Four years. First tattoo?" |   
| "Chemical structure of caffeine. Covered up with?"  
"Raythe. How many times did I ask Marina Traynor out  
before I realized she was right to call me a little creep?" |   
| "Twelve. How long have I had a crush on Hermann?"  
  
Newt stops and balls up the sheet in his hands, dumping it onto the floor to wipe up the trail of blood between the bed and the door. "It's not a- a _crush_. It's... an _appreciation_."

"If it walks like a duck... Answer the question." the doppelgänger keeps wiping himself off and the washcloth is getting dirtier but it's making no significant impact on the blood covering his body.

"His fourth email. That one paragraph..." Newt sighs and moves the sheet around with his foot and he might just be making the mess bigger.

"Yeah. That was..."

"Yeah."

They look at each other and they seem to come to an understanding.

"So. Whichever one of us is the clone got a perfectly copied memory," the doppelgänger says and Newt can only stare. He has a clone. Or he _is_ a clone.

"I was gonna say I don't even see how this is possible, but there are giant silicon monsters attacking the planet from depths of the ocean and I've technically worked for the military for nearly seven years, so, no, anything's fucking possible." Newt scrubs his face and he's so fucking tired he's seriously considering sleeping on the sodden, blood-soaked mattress. "I need to shower. You need to shower. We need to clean up all this blood."

"Katz will be here in less than two hours," the doppelgänger points out and Newt groans.

"Ok, here's what we're going to do. You're going to shower. I'm going to take samples and start cleaning this crap up. When you're done, we switch. One of us is going to have samples taken in the morning, the other when she comes back tonight. When we know which of us is the clone, we go from there," Newt says looking over at himself. "Pinky swear we won't go on a murderous rampage if we're the clone." Newt holds up his hand, pinky out, and waits until the doppelgänger grabs it with his own.

"There's no way this isn't going to turn into a horror movie," the doppelgänger says pumping Newt's hand with his pinky before releasing it with a shake of his head and disappearing into the bathroom.

The plan goes smoothly - they take samples, they shower, they clean, they flip the mattress to deal with it later - and then Katz arrives and things get a little shaky.

They're looking at the freshly flipped mattress, checking underneath to see if there's any blood dripping down, when there's a bang on the door and they notice the time.

"Shit. I'll take morning, you take night. Get in the bathroom and _be quiet_ ," Newt says shoving the doppelgänger towards the bathroom door.

"Hey, why do you get to take morning? Maybe I want to prove I'm not the clone first," the doppelgänger says shoving back. It devolves into a slap fight until Newt shoves his hand in the doppelganger's face and holds him still.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors. Go," Newt holds out a fist and waits for the doppelgänger to do the same.

_Shake, shake, shake, double paper._

_Shake, shake, shake, double rock._

_Shake, shake, shake, double paper._

_Shake, shake, shake, double scissors._

"We're the same fucking person. We're going to make the same fucking decisions," Newt says huffing with frustration. "We don't have time for this. Get in the bathroom; Katz is going to know something is up."

"Fine, but if you fuck me over don't think I won't upper deck you," the doppelgänger says pointing a finger at Newt.

"It's your fucking toilet, too, you ass," Newt says and slides the door shut in his face before running over to the door where Katz's knocking is getting more insistent. Pulling the door open he tries not to look as tired and flustered as he feels.

"Hey, um, sorry. Bathroom, uh, issues," Newt says standing back from the door as Katz walks through and waving to Corporal Chisolm who has her gun trained on him. 

"That been happening a lot? Could be related," Katz says, pulling a chair over with her foot and setting her kit up on the small table.

"Yeah, the kaiju totally have a gland designed to make us glow in the dark and a little bit constipated," Newt says sitting opposite her and holding out his arm. "I've been living on ramen and poptarts for nearly a week. It's not exactly unexpected."

"Jeez, Newt, eat a vegetable," Katz says, pulling a face as she wraps the tourniquet around his arm and hands him the ball.

"Hey, I put the little packet in. I'm a good boy," Newt says and Katz rolls her eyes.

"That's what they all say and then you find a small mountain of freeze dried vegetable packets under their beds," Katz says as she slides the needle in and, nope, Newt's still not gotten used to it even after samples being taken twice a day. It's still unpleasant and it still hurts and he still has to look away as his stomach lurches. "What's that smell?" Katz asks, sniffing the air as she waits for the vial to fill. "Is that- That's blood."

"Well, yeah, you're drawing it right now," Newt says feeling sweat begin to bead between his shoulder blades. He avoids looking Katz in the eye and ends up looking directly at the vial, blood pulsing into it slowly. He jerks his head up, eyes wide and feeling the blood draining from his face. 

"Yeah, that's why your room smells like triage after an attack," Katz says looking at him with a frown.

"Do you _see_ any blood in here? Why would my room smell like blood?" Newt asks maybe a little too quickly. His skin feels cold and clammy and he hopes like hell they didn't miss any. 

Katz looks at him warily. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes! Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Newt says and that doesn't sound suspicious at all. "Sorry, I, uh, slept badly. Nightmares. Eaten by a kaiju... Again."

Katz gives him a look as she removes the vial and places a cotton ball over the needle before sliding out the needle and bending his arm back. "Maybe we should make you an appointment with Dr. Liakos. You're kind of isolated right now."

"Nah, I'm alright. I mean, I see you and Hermann and... Wu kind of likes me." Newt shrugs. "When he's not pointing his gun at me."

"I'll make the appointment when I get back," Katz says, pulling out the swabs. "Anything changed since last night?"

"No. Why? Do I seem different?" Newt asks and shit he _is_ the clone. She knows he's the clone. What gave him away?

"It's been four days and I've asked the same questions every day. That must have been some nightmare to get you this jittery. Open." She swabs his mouth and tucks it into a container, labelling both it and the blood.

"Yeah. It wasn't a whole lot of fun." Newt shudders at the memory and stands as Katz packs up her bag. 

"I can imagine," Katz says with a sympathetic twist of her lips. "Okay, second verse same as the first. See you tonight, Newt." Katz bangs on the door twice and opens it up, revealing Corporal Wu standing at the ready. Newt holds up his hands as he waits for the door to close behind her, waving at Wu and being unsurprised at the lack of response. 

"You can come out now," Newt says as he locks the door.

"You nearly blew it, man," the doppelgänger says pointing a finger accusingly at Newt. "What were you thinking?"

"You know exactly what I was thinking. You would have been thinking it, too," Newt snaps as he pulls open a drawer to see if he has any clean socks.

"Am I really that transparent?"

"Kind of. I mean, I suck at keeping secrets, I'll almost always be the one to give away the surprise. I'm _really_ bad at lying. You know this. You're me. Ish."

"There's no 'ish' about it, asshole." The doppelgänger glares. "You think just because-" He cuts himself off abruptly and stares at Newt dumbfounded. "Fuck. You spend your entire life trying to find someone who _gets_ you and when you do..."

"Sparks," Newt says flopping down on a chair and looking up at his doppelgänger. "I did tell Hermann that if there were two of me in the same room we'd probably hate each other." 

"I don't hate you," the doppelgänger says pushing his glasses up his nose. "Because, well, you're me. It's just... weird. You know it's weird, right? I mean, you're looking at your own face saying shit you already know. How is that not weird?"

"It's weird. It's very weird. How did this even become my life?" Newt stands and looks at the HazMat suit hanging on the wall by the bathroom door. "I'll take morning, you take afternoon?"

"Why do you get to make all the decisions. Until we know which one of us is the clone, we're equal," the doppelgänger says and Newt rolls his eyes.

"I woke up first. I've got clone seniority," Newt says and reaches for the HazMat suit. "You woke up to a strange person in your room. I woke up covered in blood, thinking I was dead. Dude, I thought I was a _ghost_. My mental trauma trumps your feelings."

"That's bullshit. What the hell am I supposed to do in here?" the doppelgänger says putting his hand over the HazMat suit to keep Newt from taking it.

"There's still a shitload of research to go over, email tag with Griggson, read a book, watch a movie, I don't know. Take your pick," Newt yanks the HazMat suit out from under the doppelganger's hand and steps into it.

"Fine, but there better be some actual science left to do when I get there," the doppelgänger says and flops down onto the bed. There's a repulsive squishing sound and they look at each other in horror as they hear the mattress begin to drip.

"I'll bring back some baking soda at lunch," Newt says, staring at the space under the bed as he slides his arms in and pulls on the gloves. "Make yourself useful; tape me up." 

The doppelgänger pushes himself gingerly off the bed, trying not to make it squish any more. He grabs the roll of tape and quickly does his wrists and ankles and it usually takes Newt about five minutes by himself.

"Sweet. Already seeing benefits to there being two of me," Newt grins and picks up the bag of samples by the door. "I'll be back at lunch." He waves the doppelgänger into the bathroom and bangs twice on the door before unlocking it and walking through.

He greets the corporal outside, receiving a terse nod in return, and walks down to the lab. Hermann's already there when he walks in, hunched over a keyboard in front of one of his ancient monitors, glasses sliding down his nose as his fingers dart back and forth.

"Morning, Hermann," he says setting the samples down and turning to watch Hermann's reaction.

"Newton," Hermann says distractedly, but doesn't look up.

Newt frowns. He'd been hoping for some kind of response so he could gauge whether there were any differences that he just hadn't noticed, but, no, Hermann's completely entranced by his work. He keeps watching, hoping he'll turn around.

"I can feel you staring at me. What is it?" Hermann asks peevishly, head tilting to the side as though he's listening, but his attention is still one-hundred percent focussed on the screen. He probably wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway, with the HazMat suit and everything - it's not like his posture would suddenly change now that he's (potentially) a clone.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it," Newt says and somewhat reluctantly turns to start setting up his samples. He works silently, logging everything he's brought from his room with the cunning labels: Newt 1 (for samples taken off himself), Newt 2 (for the ones taken off his doppelgänger), and Newt 3 (for the various types of goop found on the bed in the aftermath). 

He works through until eleven, visually comparing the samples under the microscope, when Hermann gets up to stretch his back.

"Getting some good work done?" Newt asks looking over at Hermann hopefully.

"Somewhat," Hermann says as he kneads his lower back with his knuckles, barely casting a glance in Newt's direction. "There's a bug in Crimson Typhoon's code that makes the third arm occasionally unresponsive. It needs to be fixed before it happens at an _inopportune_ time." Hermann walks over and picks up the kettle, shaking it slightly and then setting it back down and flicking the switch. He pulls out a teabag and a cup and saucer and that tells Newt everything he needs to know.

"Ah. Long night ahead, then?" Newt says and there's no way Hermann's going to notice anything outside the code while he's in nitpicking mode.

"Undoubtedly," Hermann grumbles staring at the kettle intently.

"So, hypothetical question," Newt begins walking over to stand at the foot of the stairs on Hermann's side of the room. "Say you met your clone, what would you do?"

"What?" Hermann says frowning as he glances at Newt over his shoulder.

"If you were suddenly face-to-face with another version of yourself, what would you do?" Newt presses and Hermann squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a sound of frustration.

"I really don't have time for hypotheticals, Newton," Hermann says grabbing the kettle and pouring the water in a short, sharp motion that make the water slosh over the rim of the teacup and splash on the bench.

"Right," Newt says quietly and moves to retreat back to his samples.

"I would sit him down and make him go through the code with me and perhaps get to bed at a reasonable hour," Hermann says and takes a sip before settling back down in front of the computer. "I've been working on this since four, I've had three hours of sleep, I really don't have the wherewithal to think about anything else at the moment." 

"Sorry, I'll, uh, I'll let you get back to it," Newt says drumming his hands on the railing before pushing himself away. Hermann doesn't respond and Newt throws himself into his own work for the remaining hour.

Grabbing a box of baking soda from the alcove and a couple of the sample vials, he makes his way to the door calling "See you after lunch," a little too loudly and obnoxiously and receives a grunt in response. He walks out the door and greets Corporal Wu before walking up the hall without checking to see if he's following.

"Morning, Wu," he says conversationally. "I gotta head up to Medical to use the mass spectrometer after lunch. Just letting you know so you don't freak out and shoot the crap out of me when I go a different way."

"I'd give you a warning before shooting you, sir," Wu replies and Newt shakes his head.

"So much sass in the lower ranks. Kids these days," Newt says with a roll of his eyes, making a lot of noise pretending to have trouble opening the door to give his doppelgänger time to hide. He opens it and slips inside before Wu can offer to help.

"Oh my god, it is getting _ripe_ in this thing," Newt says unzipping the suit and gasping for fresh air as he makes space for the baking soda and samples on the table.

"Something to look forward to," his doppelgänger says stepping out of the bathroom. "And, let me guess, the only thing left to do in the lab is clean up."

"I'd be shouting at you right now except that I know how many shitty lab partners I had in college and that's a totally valid response," Newt says yanking the HazMat off his legs and letting the fresh air of the room cool down his sweaty body. "You get to play with the mass spectrometer."

"Really? Sweet!" his doppelgänger says, posture relaxing into something a little less defensive. "I never did understand why they didn't just let the genius wunderkind do all the work."

"To be fair, I was the chubby little nerd with, acne, braces, bad coordination and a tendency to knock things over." Newt flicks the kettle on and grabs a tub of ramen. "Remember the time I nearly burned down the chem lab with a Bunsen burner?"

The doppelgänger smirks. "They wanted to expel me until I knocked over that lamp and tripped over my own feet in the Dean's office. Pretty sure Dad's never been more mortified in his life."

The kettle boils and flicks off and Newt pours it into the ramen bowl before flopping down in a chair and putting his feet up on the table. "So, there was nothing super unusual in the samples, at least visually. My sample matches your sample and they both match the sample from the bed. The goo's there but it's not really doing anything anymore, so I'm guessing it's done doing what it was doing. Didn't really turn up much else. Anything on your end?"

"Not really. Griggson's still focused on the piglet. Got really excited about something about half an hour ago, but hasn't said anything since. Sheng in Anchorage has some theories, but that gassy windbag can barely tell his ass from his elbow so I'm pretty much just humoring him. The threads are all there on the tablet if you want to keep poking at them." The doppelgänger shrugs and pours water into his own ramen bowl and sits across from Newt. "We're going to need more food if we're in this self-imposed quarantine much longer. That supply was supposed to last three months."

"We just need to get the results back from Katz on both of us. The mass-spec should help a bit, but Katz is running DNA daily so we should be able to see if there's any degradation. As soon as we know which of us is the clone, we can stop eating the ramen," Newt says and starts eating. "I wonder if it cloned immunities; chicken pox, various strains of the common cold, that sort of stuff. Could be another way to tell."

"Dude, it cloned the tattoos. Whatever it did is pretty much a complete copy - organic, inorganic... waste. If you haven't taken a shit today you're definitely the clone, because, _man_ , that was rank," the doppelgänger says and shoves a mouthful of noodles in his mouth. Newt pulls a face and swallows.

"Got one lined up to go as soon as I'm done with lunch," Newt says with a shrug. "That's a seriously inefficient system if it just duplicates _everything_. I mean, it's going to copy cancer cells and heart defects and... Actually, it could be handy if we had a pacemaker or a replaced hip or something. I wonder how it deals with metals..."

"Dude, we don't even know _why_ the kaiju would have a gland that duplicates people in the first place. I mean, it could just be that it's something completely innocuous to them, but has a bizarre effect on us. Like in Signs-"

"Why would you do that? Why would you bring that up? You're totally the clone. Using one of the dumbest movies ever to prove a point? You're not me." Newt points his fork in the doppelgänger's direction menacingly.

"Shut your face, you totally drew the same conclusion. Why go to a planet that's seventy percent water if water is the only thing that can kill you? Why have a gland that clones things? They don't. They have a gland that clones _us_." The doppelgänger raises his own fork and swipes Newt's away.

"Yeah, and Kaiju Blue is an aphrodisiac where they're from, sure," Newt says with a roll of his eyes. 

"Maybe they're all creepy blood fetishists," the doppelgänger replies pulling a face. "Makes about as much sense as anything else has in the past eight hours."

"True," Newt concedes and looks down at the broth swirling in the bottom of his ramen bowl. "We should see if we can synthesize this stuff. If we can work out how to control it we could skip the step of replicating artificial tissue externally and grow and replace organs internally.

"I hear you and it's an awesome idea, but we should probably work out what the fuck it's done to _us_ before we try and fix other people with it," the doppelgänger says looking at Newt seriously. "We don't even know _how_ the split worked. Is the clone organic or inorganic? Did the goo retain its silicon properties? Is there a shelf life? We need to know that shit before we go off and become saviors."

"Buzzkill," Newt says and downs the broth in one go before standing and heading towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower and lie around in my undies for the rest of the day. Enjoy your personal rubber sauna." Newt drums his hands on the bathroom door frame and disappears inside before sticking his head out. "By the way, Hermann's coding so he's not going to notice shit if you go down to the lab. And try and be back by six, that's when-"

"Katz comes. Dude, you think I don't know my own schedule?" the doppelgänger says and Newt's really got to find a better way to refer to him.

"Right, yeah. Forgot. Later, dude," Newt ducks back in and closes the door feeling slightly embarrassed that he managed to forget that the dude he was talking to was technically himself. He takes care of business - the other him was right, that was _vile_ \- and showers and heads back into the main room to deal with the mattress. He flips it up on its side and it's a tacky, gooey mess. The baking soda relieves some of the sharp, metallic tang in the air, but does little for the stain. He wonders if there's a way to requisition a new mattress without having to admit that the one he has is covered in blood and squishy to the touch.

He lets the mixture sit on the mattress and starts going over his clone's work from the morning. He gets so caught up in it that a couple of hours fly by - there's something in Griggson's emails that he's not saying and it eats at him - and before he knows it he has to start cleaning off the baking soda and trying to hide the mess before Katz and the other him arrive.

He's halfway through scrubbing at the mattress when he remembers something he wanted to do a few days ago but got caught up in all the research and forgot. He pulls his gloves off, grabs the tablet and after a few moments of browsing, places the order and checks the arrival date - about a week if it's delivered to the LA Shatterdome and brought in via military transport, not too bad. Putting his gloves on, he gets back to work with a smirk on his face.

He's just flopped the mattress back down when he hears the lock mechanism being jiggled and has enough time to dart into the bathroom and quietly slide the door shut, leaving it open a crack so he can hear, before his clone walks in with Katz.

"The results from this morning's samples were different than usual." Katz is saying as she walks in and sets up her kit.

"How so?" His clone responds and, man, does his voice really pitch that high when he's nervous?

"Well, the substance in your sample was completely inert. Like it's finished doing whatever it's doing," Katz says, pulling out a syringe but not sitting down. "You sure nothing happened last night?"

"Yeah, uh, no? I mean, there was the nightmare. And the, uh, the constipation," the doppelgänger shrugs and oh my god is he blowing it. Newt cringes and presses closer to the gap to try and see more. "Maybe that's all it did? They're trying to inconvenience us into extinction?"

"Yeah, I don't think so, buddy," Katz says and points at the chair for the clone to sit. "Doesn't smell like blood in here so much now."

"Maybe you were having some olfactory hallucinations this morning. Been shot in the face with any unknown kaiju related substances recently?" 

"Cute. Squeeze. If these results come back the same I think we're going to have to call the Marshall down to reevaluate your quarantine," Katz says and for a brief moment Newt feels excited at the prospect before remembering that, no, shit's about to get way worse for him.

"Sweet. That'll be, uh, that'll be awesome," the clone says and he's clearly had the same thought Newt did.

"You don't sound too excited."

"Eh, you know. I've got my routine now. I go down to the lab, I annoy Hermann for a while, I come back and sit around in my underpants doing research. It's pretty sweet as far as only being able to leave my room in a rubber suit goes."

"That's probably more information than I needed. Open."

"Hey, you were asking me about my bowels this morning," the doppelgänger says after a moment.

"Yeah, I'm a _doctor_ ; that's relevant to my job. What you wear on your afternoons isn't."

"Fair point," the clone says. "So what you're saying is you want me to come to your office and tell you about my bowel movements, right?" the clone says and Newt snorts and suddenly everything goes silent.

The only thoughts going through Newt's head are a litany of _shit fuck fucking shitty shitting fuck fuckedy fuck fuck fuck. Fuck._ as he scrambles away from the crack in the door and _fucking gigantic balls fuck fucking fuck._

"Newt," Beverley says slowly. "Who's in your bathroom?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NootNoot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter dedicated to my beta's cat, Anarchy, because she demanded it. (The cat demanded, not my beta.)
> 
> No major warnings that I can see. Brief mentions of blood and the cleaning thereof.

"Newt," Beverley says slowly. "Who's in your bathroom?"

"Uhh... See, there's a really good explanation for this..." the clone says but Katz is standing up and pulling the door to the corridor open.

"Call for back-up and get in here, corporal," she's saying and Newt's freaking out in the bathroom and he can't see anything any more but the jig is up and it's only his cowardice that's keeping him from revealing himself. "Who or _what_ ever is in the bathroom, come out slowly with your hands where I can see them."

Newt spends a moment silently mouthing every swear word he knows before he steps out holding his hands over his head with a sheepish expression on his face. "I swear I was just waiting until I knew which of us is the clone," Newt says by way of explanation but Katz's jaw has dropped and Wu's training his gun on them.

"You've got to be shitting me," Katz says and then a security team is pouring into Newt's room and Katz is on her phone and they're being lead away to quarantine.

They're stripped and searched and given different coloured wristbands labelled _Newton Geiszler 1_ and _Newton Geiszler 2_. They're made to stand side-by-side as photos are taken; front and back, arms up, arms down. Newt has fresh samples taken and then they're being directed into the clean room and Pentecost is standing at the window, Katz to his left, staring at them disapprovingly.

"Would one of you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?" Pentecost's voice is stern and commanding; he is one-hundred percent not having _any_ of their shit.

"Well, you see, it's just-" | "Well, you see, it's just-"  
---|---  
"I was just going to wait until I knew which of us was the clone." | "I was just going to wait until I knew which of us was the clone."  
"Will you shut up and let me speak?" | "Will you shut up and let me speak?"  
"No, screw you, you're the clone." | "No, screw you, you're the clone."  
"I'm the clone?! No fucking way, man, I-" | "I'm the clone?! No fucking way, man, I-"  
"I've got clone seniority!" |   
| "Screw your 'clone seniority'!"  
  
"Doctors!" Pentecost shouts and both of them stop arguing abruptly and settle to glaring at each other as Pentecost starts to talk. "I do not care for your excuses. I want to know why this has happened and why I am now looking at two of my _only_ cryptozoologist. You," he says pointing to the Newt on the left. "Answers. Now."

"It looks like whatever I was exposed to has run its course. I've had less than a day to look at the research and run some tests, so I'm still nonethewiser about why the kaiju would have a gland that clones whoever it comes into contact with. Theoretically, it could be that it's just a bizarre coincidence; it's not what the gland's supposed to do, but it's what it does to _us_. Or we could just be spitballing and they totally wanted to clone us so we'd eat ourselves into extinction." One Newt says pushing his glasses up his nose. "That, uh, that last theory is Griggson's. If it's wrong, blame him."

"Is there any chance the clone is compromised?" Pentecost presses and the Newts look at each other and shrug.

"Maybe? I mean, as far as we can tell he's an exact copy of me. Or, I'm an exact copy of him. We can't, uh, actually tell who's the original. Physical examination shows no differences, and we've asked each other about all the embarrassing shit that I've never told anyone and answered correctly." Newt shrugs and looks at the other Newt. "I don't _think_ I want to sabotage anything. Do you?"

"Nope. Uh. No. No, sir. No nefarious intent as far as I know."

Pentecost stares them down and then looks to Katz. "What do the tests say?"

"We haven't had time to run a full comparison yet, but the sample from this morning shows that the pathogen is inert in the bloodstream. We'll need to run some more tests - a cat scan if the MRI continues having issues with the substance - but as it stands, the results from the past four days have shown that he's still not contagious, he's still in control of all his faculties and, barring the substance throwing a curveball and suddenly mutating, is likely to stay that way," Katz says looking over at the Newts thoughtfully. "I'd recommend a psych eval and a twenty-four hour hold while we run these last tests to be on the safe side."

"If it helps any, we've already run tests on the samples I took after we woke up. We've got visual confirmation on a blood match and we haven't been over them yet, but there's mass-spec results as well," one of the Newts says and the three on the other side of the glass eye them warily. "Take them with a grain of salt if you don't trust us, but everything's in fridge three labeled Newt 1, Newt 2, and Newt 3."

"Call- which psychiatrist is assigned to Science, Tech and Medical?" Pentecost says turning to Katz.

"Dr. Liakos, sir. I'll have him come down ASAP," Katz says making a note on their charts.

"Very good. Inform me as soon as he's completed his evaluations," Pentecost says and looks back at the Newts in the clean room. "Now... Doctors. It looks like the PPDC just gained a cryptozoologist. We're going to need a way to differentiate between the both of you."

"Ok, I'll be Newt, he can be whatever," Newt says and the other one gives him a shove.

"Screw you, man, if anyone's going to be Newt, it's going to be me." The other Newt glares.

"Doctors! If you cannot decide for yourselves, _I_ will decide for you," Pentecost says in a tone that brooks no argument. "Can you come to an agreement?"

"Yeah, I'm Newt." | "Yeah, I'm Newt."  
---|---  
"Oh my god, would you just give in? The man has work to do." | "Would you just shut up and take a backseat?"  
"Hell no, it's my name and it's been mine since I was _born_." |   
|  "You think that doesn't describe me, too, asshole?"  
  
"Silence!" Pentecost yells and silence descends on quarantine. "Dr. Katz, pick a number between one and ten."

"Three," she says decisively and Pentecost points to the Newt on the left.

"You're Newt," he says and turns to the other Newt. "Doctor, what's your middle name?" 

Newt doubles over laughing and pointing at his double. "Oh, man, I bet you wish you'd just given in now," he says as the double's jaw juts out unhappily.

"I asked you a question, Doctor," Pentecost says ignoring Newt's mirth.

"Mendelssohn, sir," he says through clenched teeth and Pentecost's lips twitch.

"And you're... Mendelssohn. Stick to those names. Pending Dr. Liakos and Dr. Katz's findings, we'll have new identification printed up for you," Pentecost says and turns to Katz. "I'm posting two guards here; they are to escort the Doctors Geiszler to and from their interviews. Inform me as soon as Dr. Liakos has finished." 

"Yes, sir. There's an examination room off the decontamination area. I'm sure Dr. Liakos can make do."

"Gentlemen," he says by way of dismissal and then he and Hansen are striding out of sight.

"So. Newt... Mendelssohn... Your middle name's really Mendelssohn?" Katz says with a smirk and Mendelssohn rolls his eyes.

"Mom and Dad both picked a name," he says and flops down on what he's begun to think of as Hermann's bed. "Dad wanted to be a physicist. Mom wanted to be a composer. Dad got the first name because Newton's slightly less weird than Mendelssohn." He shrugs and looks at Newt. "Mom's going to love this when she hears."

" _If_ she hears. Who knows how long they're going to keep this shit classified," Newt says with a twist of his lips and a shrug.

"Awesome. My life just keeps getting better," Mendelssohn says and slides down the wall, hiding his face in the crook of his arm.

"Ok, you two keep commiserating over how terrible things are for you. I'll put the call in to Dr. Liakos and you'll be getting that appointment much sooner than expected."

Newt and Mendelssohn nod in Katz's general direction as she leaves and then Newt's sitting on his own bed and looking over at Mendelssohn consideringly.

"This is a whole lot easier than mentally referring to you as the doppelgänger," he says as he drums his hands on the bed.

"You were doing that, too, huh?" Mendelssohn says peeking out from under his arm.

"We couldn't even get through Rock-Paper-Scissors without making the same decisions _five times in a row_. We're probably thinking the same shit about eighty-five percent of the time," Newt shrugs. "We should test it when we get out."

" _If_ we get out."

"Dude, no, they're totally letting us out. Can you imagine what would have happened if Taurax had managed to spray a populated area with that shit? The population would have doubled in size, there'd be clones everywhere in a disaster zone. It's lucky it's just you and me and the pig. So, they're going to let us out and you, me, and Katz have to find a way to stop this shit in the body before it has a chance to replicate," Newt says and it feels weird to be giving himself a pep talk in the same place that he gave Hermann a pep talk just a few days previously. Mendelssohn's even lying in the same position that Hermann was and Newt wonders if that's a conscious thing.

"Yeah, I know, it's just... there's two of us now. How long do you think they can keep a lid on that? If I wasn't the leading expert in the field, we'd be being poked and prodded by me now," Mendelssohn says as he sits up, legs dangling over the edge of the bed as he looks down. "I suppose I should be thankful that there's no one else qualified in the Shatterdome."

"You and me both, man," Newt says with a wide-eyed sigh.

"Hey, guys," Katz says from the other side of the window and Newt and Mendelssohn look over in unison. There's a man standing beside her and though his expression is serious, his eyes are dancing with curiosity. "Dr. Liakos cleared his schedule for you. Whenever you're ready. Well, it doesn't matter if you're ready. This is kind of mandatory."

"This _is_ something you don't see every day," Liakos says eyes darting back and forth between Newt and Mendelssohn, clearly looking for any differences. "I'll start with Newton, if you don't mind." He gestures over to the door and Newt looks and Mendelssohn with a roll of his eyes and moves to stand by the door and waits to be let out. 

A corporal whose name he doesn't catch leads him into a small examination room off the decontamination area with an examination table and a stool beside a computer and not much else. The corporal leaves and closes the door behind him and Newt can see him standing to attention through the window.

"You want me up on the table, Doc? Lay back and tell you all about those train going into tunnel dreams I've been having?" Newt says with a sardonic tilt of his eyebrow and Liakos laughs as he sets up a small camera, making sure it's aimed at Newt before he settles himself on the stool with his notepad.

"However you're comfortable is fine," Liakos says and waits for Newt to hop up to sit on the table and get comfortable before continuing. "We've got your entrance evaluation on file, so we're just going to go over a few questions to gauge where you're at right now."

"Yeah, you're going to ask me a whole bunch of questions then you're going to ask him a whole bunch of questions and see where we don't match up. But, I'm telling you, that's not going to work because even _I_ can't tell if I'm the clone or not."

"I'm sure you grew up on the same movies I did, Dr. Geiszler; you can understand why we won't necessarily be taking your word for it," Liakos says and there's a hint of excitement in his voice; as though the fact that giant monsters attacking the world was somehow less exciting than someone suddenly being cloned - everyone has their subgenre. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Yeah, yeah, hit me," Newt says, legs swinging back and forth and waiting for yet another psychiatrist to bombard him with questions to work out how he's _wrong_.

"Name?"

"Newton Geiszler."

"Age?"

"Thirty-two."

"Rank?"

"Officer. Cryptozoologist, Head of Biological Research, Hong Kong Shatterdome."

"What was the most important event in your life and how did you respond to it?" Liakos is watching him very closely, pen poised to take notes and Newt gives  
him a confused look before shaking his head.

"Oh, right. The memory question. When I got into MIT when I was twelve - I pretty much ran around the house bouncing off the walls and Dad let me eat a shitload of sugar before I crashed and fell asleep on the floor. Or the first time Ilia took me fishing when I was seven - I was too excitable and hyperactive to be any good at it, but he taught me all about the fish we were trying to catch and the environment they lived in and I really liked knowing that the fish had their own little world and their own motivations and it was just... fascinating."

Liakos nods and makes a few notes and Newt sighs and swings his legs and waits for the next question.

"Why are we here today? In your own words, please." Liakos is staring at Newt intently and some of the glee has left his eyes, but Newt knows it's still there; he can smell his own.

"Because when a relatively high-ranking scientist suddenly has a twin, you want to make sure that the twin isn't working to bring down the organization from the inside," Newt says tiredly; he totally watched exactly the same movies as Liakos did.

"Why did you keep the change a secret?"

"Because... I thought if I had conclusive, hard evidence that I'm _not_ the clone, I wouldn't have to go through another quarantine or any of this psych bullshit again." His lack of respect for authority and aversion to psychiatric testing is well documented; it would look even more suspicious if he tried to play the model inmate right now.

"How are you handling this revelation?"

"About as well as can be expected. Possibly a little better. I mean, when was the last time you woke up covered in blood with an exact copy of you in your bed? Nobody's going to handle that shit perfectly," Newt shrugs and wonders how many of the people who know so far have tried to imagine what it would be like to come face to face with their own... face.

"Do you feel stable?" Liakos asks and Newt can't help but roll his eyes and shake his head at the idiocy of the question.

"Well, _no_. The entire foundation of my existence has been turned on its head," Newt says levelling a judgmental stare at Liakos. "I _was_ unique; special. The genius wunderkind that people talked about. Now I'm one of a set. There's someone exactly like me who knows what I know and can do _exactly_ the same things I can do. I have to keep reminding myself that it's me, another version of me, and the only real competition isn't intellectual but to prove that I'm more _me_ than he is."

"Interesting, interesting..." Liakos murmurs, nodding and taking more notes. "It's been less than a day and already the assertion of individual identity has become the paramount driving force..." He trails off, muttering to himself as he writes.

Newt tries to contain a huff - he's on film, he knows they're going to be looking at every facial expression and twitch - but it's hard when everything he dislikes about psychiatrists and psychologists is playing out before him in his own private performance. He gets being excited about your work - he's sort of the poster child for being offputtingly excitable about things people think are a bit weird - but when your work is standing in front of a person and labelling them according to some arcane qualifiers and specifications to see how well they match up to society's definition of the norm? He's not so cool with that.

Eventually Liakos looks up and Newt has to school his features into bland interest. 

"Are you having any violent thoughts?" He asks and Newt has to admit he appreciates the directness of the question.

"About this process? Yes. Directed at any specific person or organization? No. I just want to get back to work."

"Good. Good..." More notes and then Liakos is looking at Newt with a face devoid of expression. "What do you feel when you think of the Kaiju?"

"Aw, man. That's- This is a leading question. You know that right?" Newt says pointing at Liakos accusatorially. "They're my _job_. I _study them_. I can't outright hate them or it'll cloud my reading of the results I get. They're awe inspiring and fascinating but that doesn't mean I want them to succeed or that I'm not trying as hard as everyone else to _stop_ them."

Liakos watches his face for a moment and then nods and takes more notes. "Very good. That will be all. If you'll have the corporal escort you back and send, uh... _Mendelssohn_ in please."

"Seriously? That's it? Aren't you supposed to keep me here for hours and hours until I admit that I'm a kaiju sympathizer and you lock me away so you don't actually have to worry about whether or not it's true?" Newt says staring at Liakos in disbelief.

"Torture is against PPDC protocols unless you're two-hundred feet tall and hell-bent on destroying humanity," Liakos says candidly and Newt will admit that this is the possibly the first time he's actually had a psychiatrist who displayed any sort of personality. "At this stage, we're just looking to get a reading on the two of you. The questions I've asked will give us enough to compare to your entry evaluation and each other. Once I've spoken to Mendelssohn, I'll be able to work out whether or not we need to conduct further interviews."

"What you're saying is you're going to be switching off between me and him for the rest of the night," Newt says, pushing himself off the table and making his way to the door.

"It's a possibility," Liakos concedes and Newt rolls his eyes and opens the door. 

"We're swapping." He says to the corporal and waits to be led back to quarantine. 

When he gets there, Mendelssohn's sitting on his bed with a half-finished dinner tray on the table and there's a full one on Newt's side of the room.

"Swapsies," Newt says and flops down on his bed, pulling the table over to look at his options.

"If you eat any of my crappy-ass food, I will end you," Mendelssohn says as he stands and follows the corporal out of the room and Newt's left alone with his own crappy hospital food.

He finishes his meal in ten minutes, wondering why it felt so much tastier the last time he was here, and spends the next five wondering how he can sabotage Mendelssohn's tray and not suffer any sort of retribution while they're in close quarters. 

Mendelssohn comes back five minutes after that and eyes his tray before sitting down and poking through the food with a fork until Newt huffs an exasperated sigh.

"I didn't do anything to it," he says and Mendelssohn just side-eyes him and keeps poking.

"Yeah, but you're me," Mendelssohn says before shrugging and starting to eat.

"What kind of questions did Liakos ask you?" 

"The exact same ones he asked you, probably," Mendelssohn replies through a mouthful of food. "You know what's going on. They're going over the answers now and will probably spend so much time going back and forth on them that we'll be stuck in here for days."

"Have I always been this pessimistic?" Newt asks, frowning at Mendelssohn. "I don't think I'm that pessimistic."

Mendelssohn stares at Newt for a while before shaking his head and finishing his meal in silence.

Newt drums his hands on the bed, leg jiggling as an undercurrent of energy runs under his skin. He's _bad_ at sitting still with nothing to do, and he's worse at sitting still with nothing to do while waiting for external forces to act. 

Ten minutes later, two orderlies are setting up a table outside the window and Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look and watch with interest. Shortly afterward, Liakos appears and sets up a few things on the table - a stack of cards, a camera, his notebook and nods to the corporal stationed outside the clean room door. 

"Mendelssohn, if you'd follow the corporal into the other room, please," Liakos says as he pulls over a chair and sits down.

Mendelssohn shrugs at Newt and follows the corporal out. Newt watches and sees Katz usher him into the examination room and close the door behind him.

"What's this about?" Newt asks watching as Liakos holds up a finger and adjusts an earpiece.

"Can you hear me, Dr. Katz?" He says and continues after a moment's pause. "Very good, then we'll begin. Newton, if you'd like to have a seat, I'm going to show you a series of cards and I want you to concentrate on them very hard."

"What do you think this'll prove? Wait, are you testing _psychic_ ability? C'mon, man, I already thought you were a quack, but really?" Newt pulls up a chair and sits down, throwing an arm over the backrest and letting his head roll back on his neck to stare at the ceiling in disbelief.

"We'd just like to rule out the possibility," Liakos says and picks up a card. "Are you ready to begin?"

Newt raises his head and sits up straight. "I guess I don't have a choice."

Liakos holds the card up - it's a black triangle. "Concentrate on the card, Dr. Geiszler."

Newt stares at it, holding the image in his head even though he's almost positive that the fact that they're exact clones is more than likely the reason for any similarities in their interview answers. After about thirty seconds, Liakos nods and puts the card down. Making a note, he picks another and holds it up. They go through a series of around thirty cards - circles, and squares, and treble clefs, and shapes he doesn't even have names for - until Liakos puts a finger to his ear and nods.

"Okay, we'll have them switch. Newton, if you'll follow the corporal, we're going to repeat the process." Liakos gestures to the exit and as he stands he can see Katz opening the door for Mendelssohn.

He follows the corporal and as Mendelssohn gets close he holds up a fist, bumping it into Newt's as he passes. "Clone solidarity, bro," he says and Newt snorts and walks in to where Katz is setting up stacks of cards in a specific order.

"We're really doing this?" Newt says as the corporal closes the door behind him and he sits on the stool facing the examination table.

"Living in one sci-fi movie wasn't enough for you?" Katz says with a smirk. "You just had to get greedy." She sets the piles of cards down in four stacks in front of him. "Okay, so you know what we're doing. I'm going to turn over the cards and you're going to try and tell me which one Mendelssohn's looking at. You need me to explain anything more?"

"I'm good," Newt says shaking his head despairingly - they're really doing this.

Katz touches her earpiece. "We're ready, Dr. Liakos." She flips over the first set of cards.

Newt stares at them, wondering how exactly it would feel to have a psychic connection to Mendelssohn. Would he just instinctively know which card he was looking at? Would he get a flash in his mind, or a strong steady image? As it stands, he's getting nothing. He looks at Katz and shrugs, picking one at random.

The process is similar to what he was doing previously: they go through around thirty sets of the cards, he picks one each time, and then he's being led back into the clean room. 

"Any psychic visions on your end?" Mendelssohn asks from his perch on Hermann's bed as Newt watches the orderlies pack up the table and Katz and Liakos confer on the other side of the hall.

"Not a one." Newt shrugs and lays down on his bed, fluffing the pillow up under his head and turning to look at Newt. "We should probably up the estimate to about ninety-five percent if this is their response to the interviews."

"You think we were crap enough that they're going to let the psychic thing drop?" Mendelssohn says and he's frowning as Katz and Liakos look over at them.

"I guessed completely at random, so chances are there were a few correct ones in there, but I doubt there were enough to give them conclusive proof that we've got a direct line to each others' brains," Newt says and then Katz and Liakos are disappearing out of view. "I guess we're not going to find out for a while."

Mendelssohn grunts. "I'm gonna nap. Wake me if our future freedom stops hanging in the balance." He rolls over, tugs his glasses off and pulls the pillow over his head and Newt stares at the ceiling for a few minutes, mind rushing with everything that's happened during the day, before he decides that he's not going to get anywhere with it and rolls on his side to follow suit.

Two hours later, the lights have dimmed and the nightshift is settling in and Mendelssohn wakes to a light tapping. He fumbles for his glasses and looks across the room - Newt is sprawled on his stomach, mouth open and an arm and a leg hanging off the bed, so, yes, he still has a clone - before standing and making his way over to the window

"Hermann?" He says quietly and tilts his head to the side to get Hermann to follow him to the end of the window, as far away from Newt as possible. "What are you doing here?"

"I just heard. There's a guard outside your room and tape across the door. He wouldn't tell me why you were in here again," Hermann says and Mendelssohn looks closely at Hermann and sees the dark, heavy bags under his eyes and the way he's swaying on his feet. He's clearly exhausted, but he still came to see him. That knowledge warms something inside him, but he quickly puts a lid on it. "Who's in there with you?" He asks and he sounds somewhat affronted.

"That's, ah... that's also me," Mendelssohn says, scratching the back of his head and looking up at Hermann sheepishly. "Um. Surprise? We know what the fluid from the gland does."

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermann says and he's clearly having trouble processing the idea.

"It, uh... cloned me," Mendelssohn says and he's actually a touch embarrassed - nobody could have really seen this coming, but at the same time... who saw this coming? "He's me and I'm him and we have all the same memories and... we're not exactly sure who the clone is. Um. Yeah."

Hermann stares at him, mouth hanging slightly open, frown marring his brow, and he's clearly too exhausted to be processing any of this.

"Did you work out the bug?" Mendelssohn asks to try and snap Hermann out of the loop he seems to have worked himself into.

"What? Oh, yes. Crimson Typhoon's third arm shall be a bother no more. At least until the next issue crops up," Hermann says and he's looking between Mendelssohn and the figure on the bed. "So, you're saying there's two of you? An exact duplicate?"

"As far as we can tell. They had us doing tests to see if we were psychic after our psych eval interviews. Kinda points to us being exact duplicates," Mendelssohn shrugs and Hermann's looking at him consideringly.

"A divergent point," he murmurs looking over at Newt on the bed. "I wonder how long it will be until significant changes begin to show."

"I'm not your science project, Hermann," Mendelssohn says with a frown and Hermann shakes his head.

"No, it's not... It's curiosity," Hermann says and looks back at Mendelssohn solemnly. "Our experiences shape us; they dictate who we become. We come to crossroads every day - if we go to the left we have an experience which influences us in one direction, to the right, another. We don't always see the outcomes of all our decisions - we can speculate, but every decision changes us and the world around us. Even down to the _when_ we do things - a cup of tea now might have a different effect than a cup of tea in five minutes time." He glances back at Newt. "We are seeing a distinct point wherein your paths diverged. You will experience things differently to your counterpart and they will change you in subtly different ways. It's happening right now - this conversation is an experience your counterpart will never have at this exact moment in time. You've grown in a way he hasn't."

"I've never known you to be so... philosophical," Mendelssohn says softly and half of Hermann's mouth lifts in a sad, distant smile.

"I often find myself thinking of ways things could have been different had different choices been made," he says and he's looking Mendelssohn in the eye and Mendelssohn's pretty sure they're having a moment but what moment they're having he isn't actually sure and he doesn't want to speak and ruin it. After a while, Hermann seems to remember himself and looks away. "It's... very late. I should get myself to bed. I'm glad to hear that you and... the other Newt... are okay."

"Oh, yeah. Uh, the Marshall wanted a way to differentiate between the two of us, so, um. He's Newt," Mendelssohn says as he looks over at the bed, avoiding Hermann's eyes.

"And you are?" Hermann asks, head tilted to the side curiously.

Mendelssohn looks off to the side, back prickling as he looks up at Hermann awkwardly. "I'm, uh, I'm... Mendelssohn." He shrugs and pulls a face. "I got stuck with the shitty middle name."

"I see," Hermann says, and he's already looking at Mendelssohn differently. "I'll keep that in mind. When are they letting you out?"

"Tomorrow. Maybe. We're waiting on results from Katz to see if there's any chance we're a biological threat," Mendelssohn shrugs and leans against the wall. 

"Well, then," Hermann says and straightens. "I'll either see you in the lab, or come by in the evening."

"You don't have to," Mendelssohn says with a shake of his head.

"We are... friends... are we not? This is what friends _do_ for each other," Hermann says and Mendelssohn smiles.

"Yeah, yeah we do."

There's a snort from the bed and Newt's head shoots up, limbs flailing as he nearly slides off. He fumbles for his glasses as he squints over at Mendelssohn and Hermann and visibly deflates as he slides them on and focusses.

"Still a clone," he says, standing and walking over to the window, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Still a clone," Mendelssohn confirms and he looks back at Hermann whose eyes are wide, almost as if he hadn't actually believed it until he'd seen them both moving and talking together.

"Hermann? What are you doing here?" Newt asks and Hermann just keeps staring, probably having the same sense of deja vu as Mendelssohn.

"Gawping, mostly," he says with a shake of his head. "I, er, only found out what happened a little while ago. I came by to... offer my support."

"He's filled you in?" Newt says, gesturing at Mendelssohn.

"Yes, quite," Hermann says and he's looking between the two of them like he can't completely comprehend what he's seeing. Mendelssohn supposes he should probably get used to that. "It's getting late. I should retire."

"Yeah. Wait, what time is it?"

"A little after one," Hermann says covering his mouth with the back of his hand to stifle a yawn. "And well past my bed time. I shall see you tomorrow. Newton... Mendelssohn." He nods to each of them in turn, pausing slightly before saying Mendelssohn's name, as though it isn't quite sitting right in his mouth.

Mendelssohn turns and walks back to his bed, using the fact that his back's to Newt to hide a sigh. He pulls back the covers and climbs in, rolling over to face the wall. He can hear Newt moving in the room behind him - can feel him staring at his back - but then Newt's in the bathroom and the door's closing and Mendelssohn can relax. After a while, he hears Newt come back and get in bed and then it's a few hours of concertedly not thinking about the things hovering so close to the surface they threaten to fly out and give everything away before he finally manages to sleep again.

The next morning they wake up slowly and groggily and have to fumble their way to getting their own breakfast without Hermann there to ease them into the day. They sip their coffee in silence, glaring daggers at each other until they're cogent enough to regain their humanity and remember the events of the past twenty-four hours.

As Newt watches, he can see the moment that Mendelssohn shifts from grudgingly to completely awake and he wonders if that's what everybody else sees in the commissary every morning - a growling angry mess slowly regaining civility with every sugar-laden sip. He smirks into his coffee and is startled when Mendelssohn speaks.

"What?"

Newt shakes his head. "Nothing."

"You're smiling like you know something," Mendelssohn says glaring at him. "Did someone come and tell you something when I was asleep?"

"No. _I_ would have woken you up," Newt says pointedly and he wasn't pissed about that until now.

"Dude, you were asleep. It didn't seem that important to wake you. He just wanted to see how I was."

"How _we_ were," Newt counters forcefully and Mendelssohn pulls a face.

"He didn't even know there was a _we_. He was just being polite."

"And that wasn't out of character enough that you thought you should wake me? Admit it, you wanted it all for yourself. It's my life, too!"

"Oh my god, it's barely been a day and you're already getting your panties in a bunch over this shit? Guess what, things happen! Things happen when you're not there! They're going to keep happening when you're not there so fucking deal with it." 

"Guys. _Guys_!" Katz yells and Newt and Mendelssohn stop arguing long enough to look over at the window and see her glaring at them. "It is _way_ too early for this level of noise. So shut up and get over here, there's something I want to see."

Newt and Mendelssohn slide out of their respective beds, jostling each other as they meet in the middle and make there way over to stand in front of Katz.

"Take your shirts off," Katz says and both Newt and Mendelssohn raise their eyebrows in unison. Katz looks up when they don't move and shakes the blacklight in her hand. "For science."

Newt and Mendelssohn look at each other, shrug, and pull their scrub tops off and wait.

"Huh. You really are exact duplicates," she says staring at the tattoos on their torsos. "Right down to that mottled patch that you need to get touched up." She points to a spot on his lower abdomen and both Newt and Mendelssohn cover it up self-consciously.

"I've been _busy_." |  "I've been _busy_."  
---|---  
  
Katz blinks at them. "Yeah, I'm never going to get used to that." She shakes her head and holds up the black light, aiming it at Newt.

Mendelssohn stares straight ahead, hands on his hips as he waits for Katz to get to him.

"Thought as much," she says and Mendelssohn looks over.

"Holy shit," he says and he's turning to lean down and get a closer look.

"What?" Newt says, sounding a little freaked out. "What is it?"

"It's nothing. It's-"

"You can't keep shit from me. I'm standing _right here_ ," Newt says, glaring at Mendelssohn, and Mendelssohn waves a hand at him before they can start arguing again.

"Let me finish, asshole. It's _literally_ nothing. You're not glowing anymore. Am I?" He turns to Katz and holds out his arms as she turns the blacklight on him and as he looks down he feels a rush of relief as his skin remains dull.

"It hit me that if the substance was inert in your samples, it would probably also be inert in your body. I'd surmise that the rapid replication was in order to facilitate the cloning process - can't make something from nothing - and the issues we had with the MRI putting out blotchy, gibberish images was due to some sort of interference - an electromagnetic byproduct." She grins as she switches the blacklight off and puts it in her pocket. "We might actually be able to get a read on you now."

"So we're getting out soon?" Newt asks and Katz gives an ambiguous shrug.

"As it stands, I'm going to recommend you be released. There's no indication that this has affected your brain chemistry, and it's been nearly a week so I don't think it will. Even with the sudden change and shock to your systems, there were no indicators that this was anything other than a physical change," she says and gestures towards their beds. "As soon as you've finished your breakfast, we'll get you down to imaging and barring any complications there, I'll call Pentecost and Liakos down and we'll give the Marshall our recommendations. Have one of the guards call me when you're ready."

Newt and Mendelssohn look at each other, put their shirts back on, and eat the rest of their breakfast as fast as they can, electing not to reignite their squabble in favour of getting out of there as fast as possible so they can get out of each other's faces.

They get the guard to call Katz back ten minutes later and within fifteen minutes, Newt's laying in the MRI as Katz runs the scan. Mendelssohn's peering over her shoulder as the images come in and they exchange a look as the pictures remain distorted and blotchy. She stops the scan and calls Newt into the booth.

"It's the same as last time. I've had the techs all over this thing, other scans have been run in the interim. Whatever's causing the problem is inside you," she says and she seems to be at a loss for an explanation. "I'm going to run the scan on Mendelssohn and if that doesn't work, we may have to try a cat scan or an ultrasound. But I'm thinking that it's probably going to be more of the same. And I really don't want to introduce any sort of radiation into your body right now."

"Yeah, no. I'm cool with not mutating a second time," Newt says and looks at Mendelssohn. "You cool with that?"

"I am one-hundred percent okay with not mutating," Mendelssohn says with a shudder.

"Okay. We'll get Mendelssohn done and then call Pentecost down to see about letting you go," she says and gestures for Mendelssohn to follow her to the MRI. Mendelssohn stares blankly at her for a moment before he realises she's talking to him and hurries to follow, trying to cover his slip.

Twenty minutes later, the results are the same and they're being lead back to the clean room by yet another corporal. They sit on their respective, beds staring at each other and waiting for Pentecost and Liakos.

The silence is awkward and they spend the time looking anywhere but at each other.

"What did you and Hermann talk about last night?" Newt asks, looking over his shoulder out the window at the people walking by.

"Just why I'm in here and the fact that there's two of us," Mendelssohn responds looking down at his feet. "The guard wouldn't tell him why there was tape over the door. I think he was worried."

"Hermann? Worried about us? Are you sure?" Newt says with a confused frown, looking over at Mendelssohn like he's lost the plot.

"You didn't see him, he was... yeah."

"Yeah, I didn't see him because _you didn't wake me up_ ," Newt spits and Mendelssohn rolls his eyes.

"Here we go-"

"No, no 'here we go'. You've gotta-"

"Gentlemen, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Pentecost says, interrupting Newt and staring at them with a raised eyebrow. Katz and Liakos are standing to either side of him. "I'm given to understand that Doctors Katz and Liakos feel you should be released. Is there any reason I should doubt their recommendation?"

"No, sir!" | "No, sir!"  
---|---  
  
Newt and Mendelssohn hurry to stand in front of the window, standing a little straighter than usual.

"Dr. Katz, your assessment?" Pentecost says, keeping his eyes trained on Newt and Mendelssohn.

"Physically, it appears that one is an exact physical duplicate. We've yet to work out which one as the substance interferes with the safest imaging options we have, but we'll keep working on that. The process does not appear to have affected their brain chemistry; the results show no difference from previous stints in quarantine, or Newt's most recent physical. At this stage, there's nothing to indicate that they'll be a threat to anyone if released on their own recognizance," Katz says and Newt and Mendelssohn try their best to look as non-threatening as possible.

"Dr. Liakos?"

"The interviews I conducted bore results similar enough that it was deemed appropriate to test for a psychic link. The results were negligible; the success rate being fairly close to that of random guessing. However, the results of the interviews were dissimilar enough to indicate a hierarchical maladjustment - which sounds potentially threatening, but mostly means that they're more likely to have problems with each other rather than anyone else. I don't believe that they will pose a problem for any individual, or the PPDC as an organization," Liakos says and both Newt and Mendelssohn are trying not to narrow their eyes at him - 'hierarchical maladjustment'? What the hell?

"Do you have anything to say for yourselves? Newt?" He asks, looking at Mendelssohn. Mendelssohn sighs and subtly points in Newt's direction and Pentecost smoothly changes the direction of his gaze.

"Well, you kind of need me- _us_ working on this. A city gets exposed and suddenly your disaster zone is an _incredibly overpopulated_ disaster zone. And there'll be two of us working on it, so you'll be getting more bang for your buck. Sort of," Newt says and Stacker raises an eyebrow.

"Sort of?"

"Well, we'll need more food and water rations, separate quarters, and one of us is going to need a new mattress. The one in my room's kind of, uh, covered in blood," Newt says rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and looking at Stacker apologetically.

"New quarters are out of the question," Pentecost says and raises a hand as Newt and Mendelssohn start to protest. "We do not have the space. All the quarters and barracks are currently occupied by displaced refugees working for food and board until relocation. I'll not displace them again, they keep the Shatterdome running. I will authorise the rations and the mattress, but I'm afraid that's the best I can do. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I-... No, sir," Newt says.

"Good," Stacker says, nodding with finality and looks at Katz. "Is there any reason to maintain the twenty-four hour hold?"

"I... don't think so, sir. He'd been stable for the past five days and the transformation appears to have sapped the energy from the substance in his system. Holding him for the remainder of the day would just be a formality," Katz says and both Newt and Mendelssohn perk up at the thought of getting out sooner rather than later.

"Very well. You're free to go, doctors. Don't make me regret this," Pentecost says and looks at Mendelssohn. "Report to the Quartermaster to requisition a new mattress. I'll have your documentation sent down to her. Doctors." He nods to Newt and Mendelssohn, then to Katz and Liakos and walks away.

"I'd like for you to come and see me, either individually or together," Liakos says looking a little too eager. "I feel it would be beneficial for you to have an outlet."

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a glance and shake their heads. "Yeah, you're not studying us," Mendelssohn says and looks at Katz.

"We're free to go, right?"

"Sure, you heard the Marshall. Just come back tomorrow. We'll try the EEG* and see if we can jury-rig an ultrasound to get some readings. And I'll renew your access to the Medical LAN so you can keep up with whatever I find," she says and then she's walking away and Liakos gives them a disappointed look and follows after.

They leave Medical in their scrubs, not feeling like changing just so they can walk through the busy halls of the shatterdome in their boxers. They walk back in silence, still feeling the weird tension that indicated that if either of them said the wrong thing, they'd fall straight back into an argument.

"I'm going to head to the lab," Newt says as they reach their room, swiping the tape off the door and stepping through. "You cool handling the mattress?"

Mendelssohn pulls open a draw and grabs a pair of shirts, tossing one to Newt before stripping off his scrubs and changing. "Yeah, should be," he says as he buttons up the shirt, staring at the bed. "Might need a little help getting rid of the old one. It's kind of biohazard, now."

"Wrap it in plastic and send it to the incinerator?" Newt suggests as he does up his own shirt.

"I guess we'll have to." Mendelssohn scrounges around for a pair of mostly clean trousers and wiggles into them, tucking the shirt in and looking for a tie. "How are we going to sleep? In shifts?" 

"Dude, it can't be worse than sharing with Ilia," Newt says and he's sitting to pull on the single remaining pair of boots and that means Mendelssohn gets stuck with the sneakers. He hasn't worn sneakers in years.

"Fair point," Mendelssohn says and rummages in the back of his closet for the old worn-out sneakers he hasn't seen since he moved in six years ago. "So, we sleep when we sleep."

"Works for me," Newt says and stands, grabbing his ID badge from the nightstand and clipping it onto the waistband of his pants. "Get the quartermaster to give you a new toothbrush when you're there. We can share most things, but that's just gross."

"You? Share? That'll be a first," Mendelssohn mutters under his breath and then snorts; it's been _a day_ \- hierarchical maladjustment indeed.

"What?" Newt asks walking to the door and doing up his tie.

"Nothing. See you in the lab." Mendelssohn walks into the bathroom leaving Newt to stare at him with a confused frown. 

Newt shakes his head and heads out, not-so-secretly pleased that there's no armed guard waiting for him today. By the time he gets to the lab, there's a spring in his step and a grin on his face. 

"Morning, Hermann!" He says cheerfully as he makes his way to the fridge and picks out some samples to go over.

"Which one are you?" Hermann responds, looking over his glasses at Newt dourly.

"Newt," he says and he's already kind of irritated that he has to differentiate himself from someone else all the time.

"You should wear a name tag or something," Hermann sniffs and turns back to the computer, looking between the screen and his notepad as he writes.

"I am." Newt taps the badge hanging from his jeans.

"Something a little more obvious would be helpful," Hermann says and Newt can tell he's rolling his eyes even though he hasn't looked away from his work.

"How about I get Mendelssohn to wear a scarlet 'M'. That work for you?" Newt says as he prepares some slides and wonders if twins get this much shit.

"I'd hope you would also wear a scarlet 'N', you hussy," Hermann says and Newt stops in his tracks, head slowly rising to stare at Hermann dumbfounded before his lips quirk up at the side.

"Sounds like you're heard some rumors," Newt smirks as he adjusts the microscope. "Anything good?"

Hermann turns to look at him with a single sardonic brow raised. He stares at Newt for a moment, shakes his head, and returns to work.

Newt laughs to himself and focuses on his own work, muttering notes into his digital recorder as he goes. 

He's still going two hours later when Mendelssohn walks in and heads into the alcove without saying hello. Newt looks up and there's a part of him that really wants to yell at him for going through his stuff without asking, but he clamps down on it though he can't seem to shake the irritation.

"Everything sorted?" He asks as Mendelssohn walks out carrying a bunch of tools and sets them up on the workbench.

"I have ID and a toothbrush. We have a mattress. The old one is gone. I restocked the ramen. Everything's cool."

"Cool," Newt says, looking over to see what Mendelssohn's doing. "What're you doing?"

"Fixing the old recorder," Mendelssohn says as he carefully prises open the case and looks over it critically. "I need to work, too."

"You couldn't just get a new one?" Newt says and slips his recorder into his pocket - he's not being selfish, it's just... his.

"They didn't have any and I wasn't about to go into the city just for that. It'll probably be quicker to fix this thing anyway." Mendelssohn pokes around for a while and then leans down to plug in the soldering iron.

"Right," Newt says. "So, I've been looking at this stuff and I don't think it's a weapon. I mean, as far as weapons go, making your enemy's ranks double in size is kind of stupid." 

"What is it then?" Mendelssohn says not looking up from his work.

"I think may be an evolutionary thing. Like, maybe they hop from planet to planet but they don't get to choose _where_ they go, and since they're so huge they can't guarantee there'll be enough food for them so they found a way to increase their food supply," Newt says and Mendelssohn does look up at that.

"We still don't know what they eat, though. We've never been able to get a viable stomach; we don't know if they've eaten the people they've attacked, or if they're just aiming for mass destruction. We don't even know if they can _digest_ meat," Mendelssohn says gesturing with the soldering iron and then hissing as a piece of solder flies off and lands on the floor.

"We don't know that they can't," Newt counters.

"We're meat. We eat meat," Mendelssohn says rubbing at the solder on the floor with his shoe, before dismissing it and looking up at Newt. "Wouldn't it follow that if they're silicon based, they eat silicon based life-forms? Or, just, y'know, silicon."

"Maybe they're all bred with some form of giant lizard pica? I mean, if whoever's doing this has the kind of technology to make the kaiju in the first place, they'd be able to control which characteristics-" 

"I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly?" Hermann cuts in, spinning around in his chair to stare at Newt and Mendelssohn in disbelief. "You think the Kaiju are being-... being _created_?"

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a glance; the theory had been floating around in the backs of their minds for quite some time - there was evidence enough that it was viable, but not enough to present it to anyone conclusively. This was, perhaps, the first time it had been given voice outside of Newt's room to his recorder in the early hours of the morning.

"It's _possible_ ," Newt says, stripping off his gloves and coming around the table to stand on Hermann's side of the room. " _You_ see them on screens and they're huge and destructive and look _nothing_ alike, but you're not seeing them up close - _really_ close - like I am."

"They're _incredibly_ similar," Mendelssohn says as he scrambles to follow. "Like, it's literally _not credible_ that they would be this similar at a cellular level if they weren't being _made_ by something."

"Do you think there's a planet out there somewhere just full of giant monsters who adapt to new threats within a single generation just sort of hanging out and fighting each other? _That_ sounds so much more plausible to you?"

"In a universe as vast and unexplored as ours, it's not impossible," Hermann says fumbling for his cane, ire making him clumsy as he stalks across the room to stand before them.

"But the kaiju being created somehow is?" Newt scoffs, crossing his arms.

"I would not go voicing this theory in public," Hermann says pulling himself up to his full height to look down at them. "You're already considered moderately unstable due to your enthusiasm for the creatures. This theory would tip those opinions- One of you is shorter than the other. Are you shrinking?"

Newt and Mendelssohn blink in unison and then look at each other and, yeah, Newt's looking down at Mendelssohn. He's definitely about an inch shorter.

"We don't know what kind of shelf-life the clones have, it could be cellular breakdown," Newt says stepping in close and touching Mendelssohn's shoulder, almost expecting it to be squishy under his hand. "Have you been feeling weird? Sick or sore? We should get Katz down here, or you up to Katz, so we can work out what's going on. I mean, if the clones break down within a few days, maybe it's not such a huge proble-"

"I'm wearing sneakers!" Mendelssohn shouts, pushing Newt back with a glare. "I'm not the fucking clone, you Napoleonic dipshit."

Newt looks down and he'd kind of forgotten that the boots gave him a bit of extra lift. "Ah. Right. You're feeling okay, then? Not like your base components are breaking apart?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Mendelssohn parrots back obnoxiously. "Maybe the substance can't maintain a hold on your DNA and you're slowly mutating from the inside. Tell me, what's it like to have an asshole in the center of your _face_?"

"Fuck you, I'm trying to _help_ ," Newt says and Mendelssohn stares at him incredulously.

"Yeah, you're 'helping', that's why you're so fucking keen on- You know what? Fuck this. I'm out. I'm getting dinner. I am fucking _out_." Mendelssohn pushes past Newt and storms out of the room leaving Newt and Hermann staring after him.

"What the fuck was that about?" Newt says, perplexed, and looks over at Hermann. "Told you if there were two of me in a room we'd hate each other."

"Divergent paths," Hermann murmurs looking at Newt thoughtfully before he shakes his head and looks down at his boots. "I suppose that's one way to tell you apart." He shrugs and walks back to his station and Newt's left feeling irritated and put out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Vague Warning:** Shit's about to get weird.
> 
> **Real Warning:** In the end notes.
> 
> There'll be a delay on the next chapter as my beta's moving apartments. It's currently up in the air how long the delay will be.

Mendelssohn storms through the halls to the commissary and eats in silence, poking at his food angrily and hoping he's giving off enough bad vibes to keep anyone from coming to talk to him. He's been there for an hour when Newt walks in with Tendo and he slips out quietly before they're even halfway through the food line.

He's in his room - _their_ room - reading on the bed he's just made when Newt comes in an hour later.

"What the fuck is up with you, man?" Newt says as he sits on the bed to undo his boots. Mendelssohn just rolls his eyes and keeps reading. "The silent treatment? What are you, twelve?" Newt sighs as he drops the boots on the floor and looks over his shoulder at Mendelssohn. "I fixed the recorder." He pulls it out of his shirt pocket and passes it over to him. "The stop button's a little finicky - you have to really push it if you want it to work. But it's otherwise ok. I put in a larger memory chip, too. That relic only had a few gig."

"Thanks," Mendelssohn says quietly as he takes the recorder and looks at it sitting in the palm of his hand a little stunned. "You didn't have to."

"You need it," Newt says with a shrug and sighs. "We can't keep fighting like this. We're never going to get any work done."

"Dude, there's, like, no chance you're ever going to get what's fucked up about this situation, so just leave it," Mendelssohn says and returns to his book.

"I'm never going to get it if you don't tell me, man," Newt says and he never thought having a clone would be this intensely _frustrating_.

"Fine, you want to know? I'll tell you," Mendelssohn tosses the book on the nightstand and stares at him. "You get to keep being _you_. You got the name. You got the _name_. Completely at fucking random."

"What's that got to do with anything?" 

"I told you you wouldn't get it," Mendelssohn says with a huff.

"Yeah, well, you're not explaining it very well!"

"Dude, everyone thinks _I'm_ the clone. You're still _Newt_ , nobody's looking at you differently. Nobody's side-eying you when you tell them to call you something else. Nobody's making it obvious that they don't trust _you_. You're not fucking _shorter_. You're still the same. You're _you_. I'm not _me_."

"Dude, you're paranoid. Nobody's looking at you differently. They're looking at _us_ weirdly, because there's _two_ of me. But it's not specifically directed at _you_ ," Newt says and wonders if he's always been so self-centred.

"Pentecost asked us if we had anything to add. He listened to you and then didn't wait for me to say anything, didn't even _look_ at me. It's happening." Mendelssohn crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Newt. "You weren't there when the quartermaster asked if I was having an identity crisis as she handed over my ID."

"Really? People are doing that?" Newt says, frowning as he tries to get his head around it.

"You're doing it, too," Mendelssohn says with a roll of his eyes. "Asking me if I'm falling apart and breaking down. You jumped straight to 'the clone is dying' instead of 'I've only got one pair of boots now and I'm shorter in sneakers'."

"Uh, yeah, I kinda did," Newt says rubbing the back of his neck and looking over at Mendelssohn sheepishly. "To be fair, you think _I'm_ the clone. I don't think that's going to stop until we have conclusive proof one way or the other."

"Yeah, I know, I just- Two days ago, I was me. Now I'm the _inferior_ me. You'd be feeling _exactly_ the same way if you didn't get the name. Because you're _me_."

Newt leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at the floor and tries to get his head around the idea of having the same face and same personality and not being recognised for who he is.

"Hermann thinks I'm the clone, too," Mendelssohn says quietly. "We were just getting to be friends and now I have to watch him talk to you in a way that he's never going to talk to me."

Newt opens his mouth and, unable to come up with something to contest the statement, closes it. "He doesn't know we only have one pair of boots now," Newt tries knowing full well that wouldn't make _him_ feel better. "He had kind of a legitimate reason to think it?"

"And now that's what he believes of me. You can't kill an idea, Newt," Mendelssohn says and laughs mirthlessly, pushing himself off the bed and shaking his head as he looks down with a bitter smile. "Newt."

"We could swap sometimes," Newt says as Mendelssohn reaches the bathroom door. "I mean, we're the only ones who can definitively tell who we are without looking at our shoes."

"I'd still know they were talking to you," Mendelssohn says and his lips tip up at the side in a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "And it's fucked up that that's a distinction we have to make now."

The door slides shut and Newt listens to the sound of the shower turning on as he undoes his pants and shucks them off, kicking them to a pile in the corner. He loosens his tie and climbs onto the bed, scratching absently at his thigh as he checks out what Mendelssohn's reading and tries to imagine what it would be like to have his face and his experience and his _life_ suddenly not trusted. He is who he is and he has a hard time imagining people not believing that. Like, sure, he gets that they think he's a freak because of the whole kaiju thing, but they still know it's _him_. He's going to have to watch Mendelssohn next time they're out together because even though he gets the concept, he can't wrap his mind around what it would actually be _like_.

He's flipping through the book and rereading his favourite sections when Mendelssohn walks out and pulls back the covers. "You going to take my book now, too?" He says as he slides in and leans against the wall, looking over at Newt tiredly.

"Kept your place," Newt says, flipping the book open to the pages with this index finger wedged between them as he hands it over. 

"Thanks," Mendelssohn says as he takes it and curls up and Newt heads in to take his own shower.

When he comes back, Mendelssohn's snugged down under the covers, holding his lower lip between his fingers as he reads. Newt smirks - he hadn't realised how weird it looked when he did that - and climbs into the opposite side of the bed.

"How are we going to do the lights?" He asks staring at the ceiling, head rolling to the side as he hears Mendelssohn sigh and put his book on the nightstand.

"We should get some lamps or something. Probably should have done it ages ago," Mendelssohn says, leaning out of bed, hand on the floor in the middle of the walkway as he leans over to swipe at the light switch until it flicks off. He sets his glasses by his book and settles in and can hear Newt on the other side of the bed doing the same. Mendelssohn rolls onto his side and thinks that maybe they should get another blanket because he's pretty sure there's going to be a fight over it sometime in the middle of the night. He rolls over again and hears Newt huff a sigh on the other side of the bed.

"Dude, if you're that fucking worked up about it just rub one out and go the fuck to sleep. You've literally got exactly the same junk I do, it's only weird if we make it weird," Newt says and Mendelssohn's opening his eyes and he can see Newt looking at him in the dim light cast by the various electronics charging on the opposite side of the room. He's staring at Newt and Newt's staring back and there's a tension in the air that probably shouldn't be there.

"You've thought about it, right? I mean, you're me, you've definitely thought about it," Mendelssohn says and Newt shrugs.

"Well, yeah, I mean... You're _me_. There's no one else who's evergoing to know _exactly_ what I like. But... Is it incest? Do we- Would we be crossing some unspoken line? I mean, seriously, what the hell, man? What would this even be?" Newt says and there's not enough light for Mendelssohn to see his expression clearly, but the tone of voice indicates confusion so he rolls with it.

"Okay, so, they don't even have a name for this. I mean, we're exactly the same person down to genetic make-up and cognitive development. We've got, like, two days of differing experience. So, technically this would be... masturbation? We don't have to worry about having inbred kids. Our last physical was clear of STIs and even if it wasn't, we'd both have the same one. Neither of us has any real _moral_ problem with it and, dude, it has been a _long_ time. You know it has," Mendelssohn says and then Newt's rolling over and opening the drawer of the nightstand and tossing the tube of lotion in between them as he rolls back.

"I'm game if you are," Newt says with a hint of challenge in his tone and Mendelssohn responds by pushing his boxers over his hips and grabbing the lotion, screwing off the cap as he stares at Newt. Challenge accepted.

He's squeezing some lotion into his hand as Newt follows suit and then there's an awkward moment as he passes the tube over and inches across the bed until he can feel Newt's arm by the way his skin prickles and his hair brushes against Newt's. They kick the blankets off in unison and lie there breathing, palms full of lotion and the tension still lingering as they wait for the other to make the first move.

"This is-"

"Yeah."

"Count of three?"

"Nah, just-" And then Newt's arm is over his and his hand's wrapping around his half hard dick and Mendelssohn's reaching over Newt's body to do the same and he's squeezing Newt's dick and he _knows_ this dick, it's _his_ dick, so why does this feel so off? He's pulling and tugging and rubbing his thumb up under the head and Newt's doing the same and it should be working but it just feels kind of uncomfortable.

"Oh my god, this is worse than just jacking it myself," Newt says head rolling to the side, looking at Mendelssohn almost despairingly as his hand stops moving. "I don't _want_ a perfunctory handjob. And I know for a fact that you don't want one either. It's been more than a year, man. I'm a warm body and you're a warm body let's just put all the weirdness aside and do what warm bodies do." 

"Yeah, this is- Yeah," Mendelssohn says and he's rolling on his side and tapping at Newt's hip until he does too. They're facing each other and their knees are pressed together awkwardly so Mendelssohn hooks his leg over Newt's hip and they're snugged together and _oh god_ , he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be pressed up against another person. He wriggles his hand in between them and wraps it around them both, squeezing them together as he starts to stroke. Newt's forehead is pressed against his, hands running over his shoulders and back, and they're both looking down at Mendelssohn's hand stripping their dicks and then they're looking at each other and they're close enough to see details and expressions and Mendelssohn's hand is stuttering mid-stroke.

"It's only weird if we make it weird," Newt breathes and Mendelssohn's nodding and then Newt's kissing him and he'd _missed_ that; missed feeling someone's lips pressed against his own as hands explored his body, touching and stroking and making his skin dance with pin-pricks of electricity. It's perfect, just how he likes it, a little wet and not too much tongue, and he should have expected that, should have known that it would be exactly what he wanted. 

He's kissing back and the combination of being touch-starved and the heady rush of taboo are only serving to drive him higher and he can feel everything narrowing down to the pleasure building in his balls and the lips pressing against his. He's breaking away and gulping for air and his lips are dragging against stubble and he can feel breath hot against his temple as Newt mutters _fuck, yes, keep going, keep going_ , and he's forcing his arm to keep moving, to not get caught up in sensation and suddenly stop, and then he's there and he can feel Newt's stubby fingernails digging into his back and he's coming over his fist and their stomachs and can hear the moan that tells him Newt's right there, too.

He lets his hand slow, squeezing the last of it out as he feels Newt arching against him languidly, breath still heavy and hot on his face, and he collapses against him, stretching to feel more skin pressed up against his own until Newt rolls on his back and he does the same.

"That was- We should do that again," Newt says, grabbing the box of tissues and taking a few before tossing it at Mendelssohn.

"Yeah, we should- yeah," Mendelssohn agrees, sopping up the mess and tossing the tissues towards the trash and then his eyes are closing. He falls asleep faster and more relaxed than he has in a long time.

The next morning, Newt wakes slowly to a heavy weight draped across his chest and opens his eyes to see Mendelssohn's head pillowed just below his chin.

"This is awkward," he mutters to himself and then Mendelssohn's hand is flopping onto his face.

"Shut up," Mendelssohn says with a groan, burying his face in Newt's chest. "And don't pretend you don't like it. It's way too early for that stupid bravado bullshit." He pats Newt's face lightly a few times with his fingers and lowers his arm to tighten around Newt's torso.

Newt snorts into Mendelssohn's hair and wraps his own arm around Mendelssohn's shoulder, closing his eyes and letting himself drift. He can't remember the last time he woke up and wasn't immediately grumpy and focussed on getting coffee and going to work, so this is actually kind of a welcome change, as weird as it is.

They doze together until the alarm goes off at seven and Mendelssohn drags himself out of bed to brush his teeth and get dressed. Newt's still lying there as Mendelssohn pulls on his jeans and raises his leg to poke Newt in the side with his toe.

"Up. We've got shit to do," Mendelssohn says grabbing a pair of socks from the drawer and throwing another at Newt's head. Mendelssohn sits to pull them on and eyes the boots for a moment before sighing and pulling on the sneakers. "You want me to grab you a tray?" He asks, looking over his shoulder as Newt finally crawls out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom.

"Yeah. I'll be, like, ten minutes behind you."

Newt closes the bathroom door behind him and Mendelssohn heads out into the Shatterdome. He's walking through the halls and even after everything that happened the previous night, it's still kind of nice to walk around alone and pretend that he's the only Newt in existence.

He's commandeered half a table in the commissary, an identical tray sitting beside his own, when Tendo straddles the bench across from him with a cheerful _Morning_!

"Hey, man," Mendelssohn nods and keeps eating.

"You find out what was up with your clone? He kinda hightailed it out of here yesterday," Tendo says and Mendelssohn drops his hand to the table, staring at Tendo in disbelief.

"He told you I'm the clone?" Mendelssohn says and then he spots Newt walking towards them and points angrily at him. "You told him _I'm_ the clone?!"

Newt stops beside Tendo and looks down at him with a frown. "You asshat," he says cuffing Tendo over the back of the head, ignoring his protests to not mess with the hair. "I said we don't _know_ who the clone is. The same thing I've been saying to _everyone_." Newt slides in beside Mendelssohn and looks down at his tray, and then reaches over to take two pieces of bacon from the pile on Mendelssohn's plate.

"Hey!" Mendelssohn says poking Newt in the back of the hand with his fork and Newt just shakes a finger at him.

"Dude, you're me. You wanted to take three pieces but thought that would have been too obvious, and one piece wasn't enough so you took two. I'm just getting my rightful bacon back." Newt bites into one of the pieces and Mendelssohn grumbles and returns to his breakfast, not contesting Newt's bacon pilfering.

"Sorry, man," Tendo says, looking at Mendelssohn and pulling out a comb to fix his quiff. "I must have misunderstood. On the clone thing. "

"What's to understand?" Mendelssohn says with a shrug. "One of us is a clone because aliens. This is just how our lives go now."

"It's Mendelssohn, right?" Tendo asks and Mendelssohn gives a single shouldered shrug and nods his assent. "Do we shake hands and introduce ourselves? What's the protocol here."

Mendelssohn stares at Tendo, dull-eyed and mouth hanging open. "There is no fucking protocol here, man. I've got a different name for _everyone else's_ convenience. I'm still me. I'm still _Newt_."

"Sheez, sorry. Just trying to get my bearings," Tendo says holding his hands up defensively and shying away. 

"Yeah, whatever, man. Morning, Hermann," Mendelssohn says with a nod as Hermann sits across from him before returning his focus to his breakfast.

"Good morning, Mendelssohn," Hermann says settling in beside Tendo. "Newton. Tendo."

"How did you do that? Seriously, man, I need to know before I go sticking my foot in it again," Tendo says slipping his comb back in his pocket and sending an apologetic look in Mendelssohn's direction.

"Mendelssohn's wearing sneakers," Hermann says. "And if I hadn't found that out yesterday, I wouldn't have known myself. You really do need to make the distinction more obvious somehow. Have you considered sandwich boards?"

"Cute," Newt says with a roll of his eyes. "On the front it can have our names and the back can say 'Get cloned now, ask me how."

"We've still got those party hats from last Christmas," Hermann says thoughtfully, stirring his oatmeal. "One of you could wear the little sombrero and the other could wear the little boater."

"I would pay to see you wear one of those things stone cold sober," Tendo chimes in and Mendelssohn throws a piece of reconstituted egg at him.

"That's not gonna happen." | "That's not gonna happen."  
---|---  
  
Hermann stops moving with his spoon halfway to his mouth and Tendo's mouth drops open.

"Ho-ly shit," Tendo says looking between the two of them stunned. "Does that happen a lot?"

"We've had entire arguments," Mendelssohn says with a shake of his head.

"Here, watch this," Newt says and holds out his fist. Mendelssohn raises an eyebrow, looks at Newt for a moment, and then holds up his own.

_Shake, shake, shake, double scissors._

_Shake, shake, shake, double paper._

_Shake, shake, shake, double scissors._

_Shake, shake, shake, double rock._

_Shake, shake, shake, double rock._

_Shake, shake, shake, double scissors._

"We could probably keep going, but we're not going to," Mendelssohn says, picking up his fork and returning to his eggs.

"You really are _exact_ copies, right down to the cognitive processes," Hermann says with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Well, yeah, haven't you been listening?" Newt says staring at Hermann with a frown. "Why do you think even _we_ can't tell who the clone is? They tested us for psychic ability, man. I mean, if we were able to get any sort of imaging done, we might have _some_ idea, but psychologically alone? The only difference the quack could find was that we're more likely to have problems with each other than anyone else. "

"He wasn't wrong," Mendelssohn points out. 

"True, but we can handle that shit." Newt bumps his shoulder against Mendelssohn's companionably and Mendelssohn looks down at his plate with a smile.

There's a buzzing sound and Tendo pulls his phone out and stands. "Duty calls, gotta jet. Newt, can you bus for me?"

"Yeah, I got you," Newt says as Tendo shoves his bagel in his mouth and picks up his coffee cups, nodding at them all before striding out of the room.

"I should also go," Hermann says finishing off his bowl and standing.

"I'll walk with you," Mendelssohn dumps the last of his bacon onto Newt's tray, taking a single piece before standing and following Hermann over to the trash to clear off his tray. "I, uh, wanted to thank you," he says as they walk into the hall and head toward the elevator. "Y'know, for remembering."

"Ah, yes, well..." Hermann says as they wait, avoiding Mendelssohn's eye. "I have some experience... being the _other_ Gottlieb. It's not quite the same, but I imagine it's just as unpleasant for you."

"Huh. I never made the connection," Mendelssohn says as they walk into the elevator and shuffle to the back.

"Few people would," Hermann says and leans against the back wall as the elevator starts to move down. "Here, I am the son of the man who would have us all fired for the sake of a _wall_. Out there, I am the rebellious child who won't see 'reason'. Either way, the value of my existence is predicated by that of another."

"That sucks, man," Mendelssohn says.

"Quite," Hermann says with a pinched expression as they reach the bowels of the Shatterdome and exit the elevator.

"Do people actually say shit like that to you?" Mendelssohn asks as they enter the lab.

"Not to my face," Hermann says and stops in front of his chalkboards, looking up at the equations wistfully. "But there are whispers. Growing louder now that the wall is under construction."

"How did I never notice?" He asks and Hermann snorts.

"You're not known for your people skills," Hermann says with a shake of his head and hangs his cane on the ledge, puts a few pieces of chalk in his blazer pocket, and starts the climb up the ladder.

"True," Mendelssohn concedes but Hermann's already writing away, lost in his own little world.

Five minutes later, Newt walks in and makes a beeline for Mendelssohn.

"Quick, give me your best unimpressed face," he says standing close to him and holding up his phone. He takes a photo and then taps away at the screen.

"What was that for?" Mendelssohn says pulling on a pair of gloves and picking out some samples to work on.

"Just got an email from Griggson. Surprise, surprise: two pigs. It's only fair that I get to one-up him."

"I would pay good money to see his face when he opens that email," Mendelssohn says as Newt puts his phone away and pulls on his own set of gloves to stand beside Mendelssohn.

"Wait, shit. Take off the gloves," Mendelssohn says pulling a face as he puts the sample away.

"What? What're you doing?" Newt says in confusion.

"Gotta go see Katz," Mendelssohn says as he pulls his gloves off and throws them on the table. "C'mon, if we start working we'll just forget. Let's just get it over with."

Twenty minutes later they're sitting in medical and Newt's got his shirt hiked up and gel over his stomach and Katz is rubbing the wand back and forth slowly as she frowns at the monitor.

"Congratulations," she says as she flicks the machine off and lifts the wand. "You've got organs."

"That's a relief," Newt says with a roll of his eyes. "Can I wipe this shit off me now, or do you want to keep looking for my bacon baby?"

"You're good. Mendelssohn, you're up next." She waves him over as Newt wipes himself off and hops down. 

Mendelssohn takes his place and pulls a face as she squirts the cold gel onto his abdomen and spreads it around with the wand.

"You're... slightly constipated," she says with a sigh. She changes the angle and keeps looking and eventually flicks it off and shuts down the machine. "So, that was incredibly informative."

"Fiber, dude. Try it some time," Newt says to Mendelssohn who flips him off.

"Speak for yourself," Mendelssohn says and looks back at Katz as he grabs a handful of tissues and wipes down his gut. "Anything else you wanted to try?"

"Nothing that doesn't involve exposing you to radiation," she says as she makes a note in their file.

"Yeah, no, still not cool with that," Mendelssohn says.

"Then you're free to go," Katz says and looks up as they head to the door. "Keep checking in. And send me whatever you find."

"Will do," Newt says as he walks out.

"Later." Mendelssohn waves as he follows.

When they get back to the lab, Hermann looks over from the top of the ladder. "How did it go?" Hermann asks and Newt holds his arms out expansively.

"I have organs," he says with a flourish and then gestures to Mendelssohn. "He's slightly constipated."

"Fascinating," Hermann says drily and returns to his chalkboard.

"Thanks, man, no really," Mendelssohn says with a glare and heads over to the fridges, tugging out the sample and roughly pulling on his gloves.

They work side by side until lunch, mostly silent except for the occasional note dictated into a recorder, and it's so much easier and quicker when your partner is on exactly the same page as you; tools are passed exactly when they're needed, snapping fingers are treated as a part of the process and not a rude demand. It's smooth and productive and they get twice as much work done as they would have on any other given day. They don't get any closer to an answer, but they manage to rule out some possibilities, which is kind of the same thing.

Hermann's standing by the kettle, watching them curiously as they clear away the more dangerous things before leaving the lab.

"You're fighting less today," he says as they pass.

"We, uh, took that problem in hand. Worked some things out," Newt says and Mendelssohn nudges him in the side with his elbow.

"I see..." Hermann says narrowing his eyes at them and Newt has a brief rush of anxiety that he quickly squashes - who goes from 'you're not fighting anymore' to 'you slept with your clone'? Nobody. Nobody does that... He thinks.

"You want me to bring you anything back?" Newt asks, changing the subject to be on the safe side.

"No, I'll go later," Hermann says as the kettle switches off and he turns to pour the boiling water in his cup. Newt shrugs and follows Mendelssohn out into the hall.

They eat lunch and when they return, the afternoon is just as productive. That night, after hanging out in the commissary with Hermann and Tendo and settling back into some vague semblance of Newt's regular routine, they climb into bed and it only takes a raised eyebrow before they're reaching for each other and fall asleep sticky and sweaty and sated ten minutes later.

The next week passes the same way; the days are productive - the few arguments they have are working towards building something up rather than tearing each other down - and the nights are skin on skin and the solid comfort of a warm body to hold as they fall asleep.

They have a minor breakthrough late one afternoon when Hermann's up the ladder and the only sound in the lab is the _tap-scree-tap-tap-tap_ of chalk and Newt and Mendelssohn realise he's humming under his breath. They look up at each other, eyes wide.

"Did we-" | "We didn’t-"  
---|---  
"I’ll call Tendo." | "I’ll call Medical.”  
  
Newt paces the middle of the room on his cell and Mendelssohn makes a beeline for the landline in the corner.

"Hey, Tendo. Is there any footage of Taurax with sound? I'm talking,  
like, _anything_. Official, eyewitness, news coverage..." |   
---|---  
|  "Hey, yeah, this is New- Mendelssohn Geiszler in K-Sci, I need a couple of  
rats, at least three..."  
  
There's a flurry of activity as the two rush around the lab preparing things as they make calls and wait on hold and pass messages back and forth. Mendelssohn pulls the phone cord as far as he can, stretching into the alcove to try and reach a tablet until Newt picks it up and hands it to him on his way through to the desktop in the corner. Mendelssohn is typing notes and Newt is clenching the phone between his shoulder and ear as he types and when he's done he lets the phone slip to his lap and lets out a triumphant _Yes!_ before spinning around in his chair and waiting for Mendelssohn to have a break in phone calls.

"I've got audio. The quality's good and there's enough to loop," he says and Mendelssohn raises his hand for a high-five.

"All of Medical's rats are being used for Kaiju Blue trials. They're three days out on getting more. I'm calling around the city now. Yes? Hello?" Mendelssohn turns away and slips into awkwardly accented Cantonese and Newt hopes they don't have a repeat of the _gau_ incident.

Newt leaves him to it and starts setting up a table by the wall near the chalkboard.

"You've had some sort of breakthrough, I take it?" Hermann asks looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. We were so focused on the goo and what it did to us and looking for _physical_ results that we completely forgot about the fact that for four days I was a human lava lamp," Newt shrugs and pushes another table in beside it, eying it up to make sure they'll have enough room for everything. "With any luck, you'll have a few little friends hanging out here and keeping you company for a few days."

"Pardon?" Hermann says, raising an eyebrow.

"Lab rats. I initially thought that, with Griggson having a pig and all, we wouldn't need to do our own tests here. But neither of us have done any specific tests on the sonic component. It's possible that it played a part in the transformation. It could be that Taurax's roar should have been the catalyst," Newt looks up and smirks. "No idea what The Doors have to do with it. Maybe they'd make a good duet: The Doors and Taurax Live at the Hollywood Bowl."

"Jim Morrison's gone, Newton," Hermann says as though that's the main problem with this theory.

The smile slides off Newt's face. "So's the Hollywood Bowl." Newt turns and walks into his alcove, focussing on work before he can get pulled down by the realisation of everything they've lost.

"I've got a line on some rats. HKU's got a supplier and one of the MSci kids is willing to give me a few in exchange for expedited shipping out of the Shatterdome," Mendelssohn says as he hangs up the phone.

"Sweet. Do you want to make the run, or should-"

"Am I hearing you correctly? You're willing to allow an unknown party to ship things via military transport in exchange for some vermin?" Hermann says, climbing down the ladder, yanking his cane off the ledge and storming across to them.

"Well, yeah. It's important. It's not like-"

"You would put your lives before those of the great many people you could expose to god knows what?" Hermann says angrily and it sparks something in Mendelssohn.

"Shut up, Spock. This isn't the needs of the many versus the needs of the few. This is the needs of the many _and_ the needs of the few being the same thing," Mendelssohn says, levelling a glare at Hermann. "We've gotta know how this shit works and she's got family in San Diego. You know they're still feeling it there. She just wants to send some care packages and _know_ they'll arrive."

"How can you be sure-" 

"I _can't_ , but we need these rats. It's not like I'm doing this in exchange for Tastee Kakes," Mendelssohn says then shakes his head and holds up a hand. "Y'know what? I'm not arguing about this with you. She's only going to be there for another two hours and I need to get moving if I want to make it. I'm taking the phone, man."

"Yeah, sure," Newt says and watches as Mendelssohn grabs the phone and the leather jacket from a hook on the wall and heads towards the door. "Don't name them!" He calls after him.

"I'm not gonna name them!" Mendelssohn yells back and then he's out through the door.

"I was only trying to-"

"I know what you were trying to do, man," Newt says, patting Hermann on the shoulder as he turns. "And it's weird that I can only see your good intentions when you're not aiming them directly _at_ me."

"Pardon?" Hermann says turning to stare at Newt with a perplexed look. 

Newt shrugs as he pulls a trolley out from the wall and starts lifting things off it. "When you do that shit right to my face? Feels like an attack. Like you're saying there's something wrong with _me_. Watching you do it to him? It's easier to see that you're looking at the bigger picture."

"You didn't realise that?" Hermann says with a look of dawning awareness, some of the colour draining from his face as his jaw goes slack.

"Well, no," Newt says, kicking the wheel as he tests the trolley. "You're always in my face and needling me about shit. My instinctive response is 'defend, defend!' not 'try and see where this dickbag is coming from'."

"I wasn't trying to- _Dickbag_?" Hermann says looking so affronted that Newt can't help but snort.

"What can I say? You're not exactly my favorite person when it happens." 

"I see," Hermann says obviously put out by the revelation.

"Can we pick this up later? I've got to get shit done before he gets back with the rats."

"Yes, yes," Hermann says absently, staring at Newt and shaking his head before walking away slowly.

Newt spends the next three hours running around the Shatterdome scrounging and trading favours for spare parts and when he gets back to the lab he has just enough material to put together two see-through, sound proofed boxes and three cages. He's shredding old reports to line the bottom of the cages when Mendelssohn walks in with a small cage and a bag of supplies.

"I asked for three and she gave me four - she _really_ wants to get this shit to her family - so I was thinking we could keep one as a lab mascot," Mendelssohn says and holds up the carry box to look at the rats scurrying around.

"You didn't name them, did you?" Newt says coming over to look at them; they all seem healthy.

"I didn't name them," Mendelssohn says with a roll of his eyes. "What do you say, Hermann? One of these little guys look like a mascot to you?"

Hermann looks down from the ladder and gives them a disparaging look. "Whatever you decide to do, I can't stop you," he says and turns back to the chalkboard. "I will not be held responsible for the feeding, care, or cleaning of it, whatever you decide. And if it starts to smell, I-"

"You'll file a complaint, I know, I know," Mendelssohn says and looks at Newt. "So, time to play god. Which one are we going to save from almost certain doom?" He puts the cage down on the table beside the sound proof boxes and they both lean down to look. 

"We should keep the feisty one," Newt says pointing at the one climbing up the side of the cage and sniffing. "If nothing else, it'll be entertaining."

"Now I feel bad for the other rats," Mendelssohn says with a sigh.

"This is why we don't name them anymore." Newt squeezes Mendelssohn's shoulder and walks over to the alcove. "Finish lining the cages and set up the food and water. I'll get the monitoring equipment sorted out." He grabs two laptops, an external hd, two sets of earbuds, a camera and the necessary cables, and walks back to the table and sets it all up. The three cages are set in middle section of the two tables with a laptop at either end. He sticks the earbuds through holes in the corners of the soundproofed boxes and seals the gaps, turning to hit play and adjust the volume on both of them until he's sure that there'll be no sound bleed before setting up the camera as Mendelssohn finishes lining the cages and setting them in the sound proofing..

There's a sharpie and stickers on the table and Mendelssohn looks over at Newt apprehensively. Newt shrugs and gestures at the cables he's untangling and Mendelssohn sighs and picks up the pen. Control, Taurax and Doors; that's all he has to write.

"Go slow. Think of the shape of the word," Newt says quietly, too soft for Hermann to hear, as Mendelssohn scrunches up the first sticker and tosses it to the side. He takes a deep breath and manages to write the rest without incident.

Taking the rats to the table, he lifts one out, weighs and measures it, and notes any defining characteristics before setting it in the first cage. He repeats the process with the other two while Newt gets the camera sorted and does a test run, making sure the recording plays back before erasing the file and standing up. 

"We ready?" He asks Mendelssohn, who's absently stroking the leftover rat in its cage.

"As we'll ever be," Mendelssohn says and takes a place on the opposite side of the camera.

"Okay, rolling," Newt says as he hits the record button. "August eighth, twenty-twenty-two, nine-seventeen pm. Testing the substance from the kaiju gland on lab rats with a focus on the sonic component. Hypothesis is that the reverberations influence the substance in some way beyond simply making it visible under a black light." 

"The rat in the center is the Control," Mendelssohn picks up, resisting the urge to point at the cages and get his hand in the shot. "The rats on either side will be exposed to the substance and played different sounds. The rat to the left will be played a recording of Taurax's roar at a significantly lower volume, repeating at an interval of fifteen minutes. The rat to the right will be played every song ever recorded by The Doors on an infinite loop. Secondary hypothesis: it's possible to make rats hate Jim Morrison."

Newt turns his head away to muffle a snort. "Initial test period will be twenty-four hours with first check in being at nine am." He gives Mendelssohn a look and receives a thumbs up in return, so he picks up the carry case with the fourth rat in it and carries it across the room. "What're we going to name this little guy?" He opens the cage and picks up the rat, stroking its back gently as it sniffs him and the air.

Mendelssohn leans over to get a closer look, holding up a finger for the rat to sniff before running it gently between its ears. "I dunno, man. It's been so long since I've named anyth-" He stops and looks up at Newt, glancing towards Hermann briefly before looking back at the rat. "Tesla?"

Newt grins and holds the rat up to his face, snickering as the whiskers and forepaws tickle his face. "Tesla."

"Tesla? Really?" Hermann says looking down at them in confusion.

"Well, yeah, Tesla was awesome," Mendelssohn says, craning his neck to look up at Hermann. "He tried to build a death-ray once. He wasn't really _successful_ , but he took a shot."

"We can call it Dickbag if you want," Newt follows up, holding the rat in front of his face with a smirk. "Say hello to Hermann, Dickbag."

"You are not to call the rat _Dickbag_." Hermann says and pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance with an expression of moderate concern. "Or build a death-ray."

Newt and Mendelssohn look at each other consideringly. "I wasn't thinking of it unt-"

" _Do not_ build a death-ray," Hermann says with finality and turns back to his calculations.

Newt snorts and turns to walk to the alcove, gesturing with his head for Mendelssohn to pick up the cage and follow. "If we ever get time, we should totally build a rat run. There's space on the back wall."

"That would be freaking _awesome_." Mendelssohn clears off a space for the cage and sets up the water bottle and food tray then turns to makes grabby hands at Newt. "Give him - him? him. - here. I want to play."

Newt hands Tesla over and watches with a smile as Tesla runs up Mendelssohn's arm and perches on his shoulder, grabbing onto his ear as he stands on his haunches to look around and something in his chest twinges. He coughs and looks away, walking towards the door.

"I'm gonna get dinner."

"Hold up, I'll be right there," Mendelssohn says and carefully places Tesla in his cage. "We should get a wheel or something to tide him over until we build the rat run." 

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Newt says and listens as Mendelssohn builds on the idea, adding tunnels and little rooms and a reading nook-

"Why would a rat need a reading nook?" |   
---|---  
| "Who _doesn't_ need a reading nook?"  
  
-and keeps talking until they're dumping their trays and leaving the commissary. They're back in their room before Mendelssohn looks at Newt with a frown and nudges his shoulder.

"What's wrong with you, man? You've been quiet for an hour now. That shit ain't natural," he says and Newt shrugs and looks at the floor.

"I kind of want to... fuck you," he says and when he looks up Mendelssohn's standing stock still and staring at him.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Yeah. We've got condoms and lube here somewhere, right? Yeah, that's- Yeah." Mendelssohn shakes it off and digs around in the drawers by the bed and finds the lube, but has to pull open another three drawers before he finds the condoms. "They're still good. Come on, get naked. I don't know why we didn't do this sooner. I mean, yeah, handjobs are great and all but- blowjobs, dude. _Blowjobs_. Man, it's been _forever_ since I've blown anyone. Or been blown. We should totally change things up a little," Mendelssohn says as he undoes his shirt and kicks his shoes off.

"You're cool with this?" Newt asks and he _knows_ he'd be up for it if Mendelssohn had put it forward first, but there's this weird disconnect in his brain between touching Mendelssohn's dick (even if it is technically his own) and fucking him.

"Dude," Mendelssohn says as he shimmies out of his pants and tosses them and the shirt into the corner and clambers onto the bed. He flicks open the tube and squeezes it onto his fingers talking conversationally to Newt as he works himself open. "This entire thing started because it's been a, unh, _very_ long time since we've even had time to go pick someone up for a night of perfectly adequate sex. You think I'm going to turn down someone who knows _exactly_ how I like to get fucked. Not gonna happen." Mendelssohn opens his eyes and looks at Newt as he pushes a second finger in. "You need to be more naked if this is going to work."

"Right, yeah. Right," Newt says and starts to undo his shirt, staring at Mendelssohn fingering himself and he'd never really been the type to stare in a mirror while he'd fucked or jacked off but this was... This was, yeah. He yanks his pants down and then has to sit to pull his boots off and his palms are a little sweaty when he finally manages to pull his trousers off and turn to kneel on the bed. "You ready?" He asks as he grabs the box of condoms and picks one out and shakes it between his fingers. "On your knees," he says to Mendelssohn's answering nod and strokes himself a few times before sliding the condom on. 

He looks up and Mendelssohn's on all fours in front of him, looking over his shoulder and his glasses are still on and the lights are still on and Newt has to take a moment to wonder how this became his life. He shakes his head and lines himself up, one hand on Mendelssohn's hip as he pushes forward and pulls Mendelssohn back and _fuck_ it has been too long; there's no way he's going to last. 

He's moving and Mendelssohn's babbling under him, urging him on, but all he can think about is the tight, warm heat surrounding him and Mendelssohn's skin hot against his own. He presses his forehead between Mendelssohn's shoulders and feels them lurch forward as Mendelssohn grabs his glasses, tosses them to the side and rests on his shoulders to take himself in hand. His hips are thrusting at a fast pace and he can hear Mendelssohn's groans muffled into the mattress and feel his elbow jabbing him in the forearm as he tugs himself hard and rough.

"Yeah, yeah, like that, like that, unh... Keep going. Fuck. I'm gonna- _I'm gonna_ -" And then Mendelssohn's back is arching and Newt can feel him quivering around his dick as he comes and collapses forward onto the bed. Newt keeps thrusting, keeps fucking, holding himself up on his forearms as his lips drag across Mendelssohn's back and tastes sweat, salty and sharp on his tongue. He can feel when Mendelssohn starts coming back to himself, shifting underneath him and squeezing him tight, and he's kissing Mendelssohn's back when it hits him suddenly - no build up, no sweet, glorious hang on the precipice, just a sudden fall and everything slows down, his skin feeling like it's on fire as he plummets.

He breathes heavily into Mendelssohn's back and can't stop himself from kissing the brightly coloured flesh as he comes back to himself. Mendelssohn's pliant underneath him and his hand comes up to pat at his hair awkwardly until Newt rolls to the side and stares at him wide eyed.

"So, that's definitely going to happen again," Mendelssohn says breathlessly with a lopsided smile and Newt huffs a laugh, eyes closing as he feels Mendelssohn shift out of the bed and walk into the bathroom.

Newt pulls the condom off and tosses it towards the trash as he rolls onto his back and he's dozing when Mendelssohn returns, flicks off the light, and shoves him in the side.

"I'm not sleeping in the wet patch. Move over, dude," he says and Newt grumbles and moves over slightly and feels Mendelssohn pressed up against his side. 

When he opens his eyes he doesn't expect to see Mendelssohn hovering above him, or for Mendelssohn to lean down and kiss him softly, eyes drifting closed as they move together, lips soft and pliant in the afterglow. Mendelssohn moves away and they stare at each other, not speaking, before he lays his head on Newt's shoulder and Newt's left staring at the ceiling trying to work out what was happening to his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Real Warning:** Clonecest. I can be as oblivious as Newt at times and it was only while I was getting this ready to post that I realised that clonecest might not be everyone's bag. So, uh, sorry?
> 
> I should not be allowed near a keyboard.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! There may be more: things haven't quite settled. :/
> 
> **Note:** Shit's about to get weirder.

Newt's woken by a banging on the door and pushes Mendelssohn off him, struggling to get out and grab his glasses, foot getting caught in the blanket as he stumbles toward the door.

"God, it's so _early_. What is it?" He moans as he puts on his glasses and stares out the door at Hermann.

"Your rats are making an infernal racket and it's making getting any work done an imp- imposs-" Hermann starts off strong and angry and trails off, eyes going wide as he looks past Newt and then back at Newt, then down at his feet and then somewhere to the side of Newt's head. "Your rats. Are being- Are very noisy. Make them stop," he says and then he's turning and walking away and Newt's staring at him in confusion. 

He closes the door and leans against it, trying to figure out what got Hermann so weird this morning. The door's cold against his back and- He's naked. His head jerks up and he looks at the bed and Mendelssohn's sprawled across it, just as naked, and the sheets and blankets are strewn about the floor and it couldn't have been more obvious what happened last night. He scrubs his hands across his face and lets out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sits heavily on the edge of the bed, shoving Mendelssohn to wake him up.

"Hermann knows," he says and Mendelssohn barely stirs. Newt smacks him sharply on the thigh and watches as Mendelssohn arches up suddenly, aiming a sleep-filled, cranky glare at him. "Hermann _knows_." He repeats and that seems to wake Mendelssohn up more thoroughly.

"How? What? What happened?" He says blearily, pushing himself up into a sitting position and staring at Newt uncomprehendingly.

"He came to complain about the rats. I answered the door. I'm naked, you're naked, there's a whole lot of naked and he saw everything," Newt says wearily and if he'd thought there was a way to make life with a clone more complicated, this wasn't it.

"Shit."

" _Exactly_ ," Newt says and pushes himself up to stand. "I'm gonna shower and go deal with the rats. You... do whatever." 

Newt showers and by the time he gets out, Mendelssohn's sitting on the edge of the bed burying his face in his hands and Newt knows that feeling. He throws on clothes and heads out into the hall, stopping before the door to the lab with an apprehensive stutter in his movement; his hand hovering over the door handle, shoulders tight as he works himself up to entering the room.

He pushes the door open with a sigh and tries to pretend that nothing had happened. "Morning, Hermann," he says trying not to let the anxiety into his voice.

"Good morning," Hermann says and he doesn't turn around so it's obvious he doesn't know which of them he's talking to; likely didn't know who he was talking to when he knocked on the door, either.

"Listen, I-"

"Leave it. I neither need nor _want_ to know," Hermann says and the tapping on the chalkboard is more forceful than usual. "Deal with your vermin. I have work to get done."

Newt sighs and checks the rats' water and food and makes sure the camera is still recording. He briefly considers making a sound proof box for the control rat, but dismisses the idea after realising that a complete absence of sound is a variable they hadn't considered and it's too far into the experiment to change anything. Hermann will just have to get used to the noise - it's only a few more days.

He grabs a tablet and makes a few notes about each rat's current condition and heads into the alcove to check on Tesla, who's hanging from the top of the cage, paw scrabbling at the latch and getting nowhere, but Newt would definitely give him props for trying.

"Hey, buddy," he says opening the cage and lifting him out, holding him against his chest carefully. "One night and you're already trying to stage a jailbreak? Give us some time we'll have a sweet pad knocked up for you. You're going to have different rooms and a _view_ , it's gonna be awesome, little dude."

He hears the door open and Mendelssohn greeting Hermann and he's obviously had the same idea to just see how Hermann wants to play it and, when all he gets is a terse _Good Morning_ in response, he appears in the alcove. Mendelssohn walks over to him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and scritches Tesla behind the ears.

"Did you have any luck?" Mendelssohn asks lowering his voice to not be overheard.

"He doesn't want to talk about it." Newt shrugs.

"Shit. Just when-... I thought-..." Mendelssohn looks at him sadly. "He watches you sometimes. Us. When he thinks we're not looking. He'll be up the ladder or by his computer and he'll look over, either out of the corner of his eye or over his shoulder. It's not even when it's both of us together, it's just... it's like he's considering _you_. Or _me_. Or... I don't know." Mendelssohn shrugs and focusses on stroking Tesla. "We had some conversations. I thought, y'know, I thought we were getting somewhere. Common ground, or something."

"One step forward..." Newt sighs.

"One gigantic slingshot back to the dark ages," Mendelssohn turns away, staring out into the main area. "I thought, maybe we might, y'know, get there... one day. But, maybe... maybe it's time to move on."

Newt presses his lips to the top of Tesla's head as he thinks, a solid weight settling heavy in his gut, before he nods and puts Tesla back in his cage. "Sure, why not. It's worked so well every other time I've tried it. Might be time to start bashing my head against _that_ wall for a while." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before taking a deep breath. "You want to- I think we should have a Go Slow. The experiment's running, the samples can wait another day, and... I don't really feel like spending too much time out there, if you know what I mean."

"You want us to spend a day doing not a whole lot when it's kind of clear that we need to focus on _anything_ other than Hermann grumping out there?"

"Well, no, I was thinking... We've got to test the rats somehow so, we build a maze. That'll take most of the morning. We run them through it while Hermann's at lunch. Then this afternoon... we've got a whole wall. And a rat who was trying to make a break for it when I got in," Newt raises an eyebrow and Mendelssohn looks over at the wall and then back at Newt with a grin.

"Rat run?" Mendelssohn says consideringly.

"Rat run." Newt grins. 

"Let's do it."

They work through the morning building a maze out of corkboard and plywood with two options in the end - one with regular cheese, the other with regular cheese and a small electrical current running to it.

The second they hear Hermann grumble and thump his way out of the lab, they're off and setting it up beside the cages. They run each rat through it three times, taking note of how long they were out of their respective cages, how long it took them to run through the maze, and whether or not they chose correctly. All the results are fairly similar which isn't unexpected at this stage.

They spend the rest of the day setting up cages and tanks and fixing piping to the wall. Every time one of them walks out into the main area to get something or check on the other rats, the tension is thick enough to choke. 

They finish late in the afternoon and are sitting back to watch Tesla explore his new home when they hear Hermann packing up, thumping things and slamming them down as he straightens up his area. Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look and roll their eyes.

"Quit being passive aggressive, Hermann. You're the one who didn't want to talk about it," Newt yells and the noises in the main area stop.

"I _still_ do not want to talk about it," Hermann says evenly and the thumping starts up again and that is some kind of bullshit. Newt jumps up and stomps into the main area, stopping in the middle of the room to stare at Hermann's back.

"It happened. You know about it. What do you want me to say? I'm _sorry_ for being _lonely_?"

"I do not want you to say anything because I do _not_ want to talk about it," Hermann says and his back's to Newt and it just makes Newt angrier.

"All that noise you're making is saying something else, man. What is it? What the fuck has got you so angry about this? I never pegged you for the judgmental type - well, yeah, I did - but not about something like _this_. What? What is it? You want to join us? You jealous? Is that what this is about?" Newt says. His eyes widen and even he can tell when he's projecting. 

_Why would you say that?!_ Mendelssohn comes up beside him and shoves his shoulder, glaring at him as he silently calls him out.

_I was angry!_ Newt retorts, equally silent and then he's scrubbing his hand through his hair and waiting for Hermann to explode.

Hermann's stopped making noise and he's standing still and staring at the table in front of him and Newt starts back-pedalling.

"Bad time for flirting, I know, I- Shit. Just, what the fuck man?" Newt says and then Hermann's grabbing a stack of papers and turning a withering glare at Newt.

" _Flirting_ is the means by which one person initiates a challenge-response interaction whereby the flirt _er_ creates within the flirt _ee_ a sense of appreciation designed to keep the flirtee interested; it is a publicly performed intimacy, _not_ whatever it was you were doing. Grow up, Geiszler. Both of you." And then he's storming out of the room.

"That went well," Mendelssohn says drolly. "Totally cleared up the whole 'unbearable tension' thing. Well done."

"Oh, fuck off. Like you would have done any better," Newt says, slumping as he stares at Hermann's side of the room. "Fuck it. Check the rats and let's go eat."

Mendelssohn checks on the rats - no change - and follows Newt out of the lab, flicking the lights off as he goes. 

Hermann's not there when they reach the commissary. Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look before joining the food line and grabbing a table. They eat mostly in silence, poking at their food and only looking up when Tendo stops by on a coffee run. 

"Evening," he says as he stops by their table, putting a foot up on the bench and his coffee on the table. "Where's Hermann? Still plugging away?"

"Search me, man," Newt says with a shrug.

"Oh, hey, there he is," Tendo says and Newt and Mendelssohn look up to see Hermann walk in and go straight to the food line without looking their way and then choosing a table as far away from them as possible. "Uh oh, trouble in paradise? Did you destroy his shoes again?"

"Nah, it's- he's got his panties in a bunch over something. I don't even know." Newt takes a bite and stares across the room in annoyance. 

"Well, get it sorted out soon. It's weird seeing two of you and none of him sitting here." Tendo takes a sip of coffee and looks at his watch. "Gotta jet, diagnostics won't run themselves. Later." He picks up his coffee cups and heads out the door without waiting for a response.

Newt and Mendelssohn keep eating in silence and eventually Newt glances at Mendelssohn and coughs.

"One of us should go over there," he says and Mendelssohn raises an eyebrow.

"And say what? 'Sorry for the sexual harassment after you saw me and my clone naked this morning'? Do you really think that's going to help?" Mendelssohn stabs a piece of limp broccoli viciously and shoves it in his mouth.

"Well, no, but... He didn't say _not_ to flirt with him. Just that we were doing it wrong-"

" _You_ were doing it wrong."

" _Either way_. Maybe... maybe we should do it right?"

Mendelssohn looks at him thoughtfully. "Who would go?"

"Draw straws?" Newt says and looks down at his tray. "Uh, draw fries?" He picks two similarly shaped fries and rips one in half, turning away from Mendelssohn to arrange them in his hand. "Short fry goes over." He holds up his fist and Mendelssohn looks at him suspiciously, eying the two fries before picking one. Newt loosens his grip to let the fry slide out and feels his stomach drop as he opens his palm to see the reconstituted potato smeared across his palm.

"Guess it's up to you to fix your mistake," Mendelssohn says as he shrugs and eats the fry. "Don't fuck this up. Godspeed, man. God-fucking-speed."

Newt sighs and stands, picking up his tray and walking across the room to stand beside Hermann awkwardly.

"Uh, hey. Do you- Is it okay if I sit?" He asks and Hermann looks up with a put upon expression.

"Can I stop you?" He asks and Newt hovers for a moment before sliding in across from him. 

There are a couple of J-Tech engineers sitting at the other end of the table, so Newt keeps his voice low when he speaks.

"I know you're pissed at me and I'm sorry, but, like, I don't get why you're so worked up about this and waitwaitwait- That's not- I don't want to start shit up again, I just," Newt sighs and looks down at his tray before looking up at Hermann. "I, uh, I really like that sweater vest. It's a good color on you. Makes your eyes look, um, warm."

Hermann lowers his fork to his tray and stares at it in silence for long enough that Newt wonders if he's broken him.

"Don't do this, Newton," he says tiredly. "This isn't you. Either of you," Hermann says looking over at him tiredly.

"Shit," Newt says feeling his stomach lurch. "So you weren't trying to tell me _how_ to flirt with you? Fuck, I'm sorry. I- As if it wasn't awkward enough with the whole you knowing about me and him thing without the me liking you thing. I'll- Shit. I won't let it get in the way of our professional relationship." Newt stands and picks up his tray, forcing out a laugh and not meeting Hermann's eye. "Hasn't been a problem for eight years, so, uh. Um. Yeah. Nothing's going to change. Sorry."

Newt walks across the room on autopilot, avoiding collisions and bussing his tray and before he knows it he's standing outside his room looking at the pair of packages sitting on the stairs by his door.

"Hey, _hey_!" 

Newt glances up as Mendelssohn jogs down the hall towards him. 

"What the fuck, man? What happened?"

"Completely misread the situation," Newt says opening the door and grabbing the boxes stacking them on the chair before grabbing the blanket off the floor and remaking the bed. "Don't think I could have misread it more if I'd tried."

"Well, fuck," Mendelssohn says and picks up one of the boxes. "So we just ratchet up the tension in the lab from ten to, what?"

"They haven't even got a name for that number yet," Newt says and drops face down onto the bed, pulling the pillow over his head.

"Figures these would arrive just when everything went tits up," Mendelssohn says and rips off the packaging to reveal a plain box. "Wait, these are from the same place. Did you-"

"Order a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers for Hermann, too? Fuck. Don't even talk to me." Newt shoves his head back under the pillow.

Mendelssohn rummages through the drawers in his desk until he finds a sharpie and a piece of paper and carefully writes _Sorry. -N + M._ on it and tapes it to the box. He looks at Newt lying on the bed and heaves a sigh, picking up one of the boxes and taking it into the hall. He sets it outside Hermann's door, just off to the side so he won't step on it if he's already in his room, and goes back to his own. 

Newt's still lying on the bed when he gets back so he toes off his shoes and sits beside him, back propped up against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him.

"So, I guess that's the last nail in that coffin," he says with a sigh and there's a small part of him that's pissed at Newt for getting confirmation. "Guess it's time to put that sucker in the ground."

Newt grunts in response.

"You want a hug?" Mendelssohn asks and Newt raises his head.

"Yes, but also no. That's what got us into this mess in the first place," he says and drops his head back to the bed, letting out a sound of frustration and kicking his feet against the mattress. "Fuck, man. Seriously. There are giant monsters hellbent on destroying humanity attacking every few months and my biggest problem is that my lab partner doesn't like _either_ of me. How did this become my life?"

I don't know, man. I-"

There's a banging on the door, cutting Mendelssohn off and making them both jump. They look at each other in confusion and Newt hauls himself up to go answer it.

"Hermann?" Newt says as he pulls the door open and he was pretty much the last person he expected to see there.

"May I...?" Hermann says, gesturing inside and looking up and down the hall as if to indicate that he doesn't want this conversation to be overheard. Or he doesn't want to be seen going into Newt's quarters at all.

Newt steps back and Hermann makes his way inside, standing in the middle of the room and staring at the floor as Mendelssohn stands and throws a look at Newt. Newt pulls a face and shrugs in return.

After long moments of awkward silence, wherein the tension in the room is almost palpable, Hermann turns his head to look at Newt. 

"Eight years?"

"Uh, yeah?" Newt says rubbing his neck uncomfortably; it would figure that Hermann would come to twist the knife, that's how their relationship worked. "Just sort of a low-grade- I haven't been- It's not going to be a problem. I mean, it hasn't been until now, we can just keep going how we-"

"And this isn't just- just _friendship_ like?" Hermann interrupts and he's frowning and Newt really can't get a read on him.

"Dude, I was trying to _flirt_ with you. Who friend-flirts?" Newt says and, just like every time they fight, he thinks it might make it easier to put this whole thing in the ground.

"I see," Hermann says and he's looking at the floor again, hands twisting on the head of his cane.

"Did you just come to rubberneck at my humiliation?" Newt says, hands settling on his hips as he frowns at Hermann. "Because you can just leave if-"

"No! No. No, I- No." Hermann says and looks up, face a mask of blank determination. "What is it that you want?"

"What do I _want_?" Newt asks and if he was expecting Hermann to say anything, it wasn't that. "I-... I want to take you to dinner - _out_ to dinner, _out_ out, out of the Shatterdome _out_. I want to talk - and _argue_ \- with you, about whatever. Whenever. And I want to take you to bed - mine or yours. And... and I want to kiss you - on the mouth. And other places. And... and I'm kind of baring my soul here, man, and you're just standing there."

Hermann swallows and nods and looks down. "I am... I am open to your overtures."

" _Open to your overtures_? Really? And you think _I'm_ bad at flirt-"

"Do you want to kiss me or _not_?!" Hermann snaps and Newt blinks, mouth closing with an audible click. He stares at Hermann in shock and then he's stepping forward, putting a tentative hand on his chest and leaning in and-

"I'm not misreading this, right? This is- You-"

Hermann cuts him off by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Newt's and it's awkward and uncomfortable and their noses are pressed together strangely but then something clicks and the initial moment of shock is gone and Newt's pressed up against Hermann, hand holding the back of his neck and pulling him down as he stretches up and-

"Hey, uh, don't want to spoil the moment but if you let me get past I'll be out of your hair," Mendelssohn says, sneakers in hand as he tries to inch past Hermann and Newt to get to the door.

"Mend- Mendelssohn," Hermann says breaking away from Newt and staring at him as he breathes heavily.

"It's ok, I get it. I'll just... go hang out in the lab with Tesla. The couch isn't too uncomfortable. I can-"

"Mendelssohn, no," Hermann says and he's cupping Mendelssohn's cheek and tilting his head up to meet his eye before leaning in and pressing his lips to his and it's soft and slow and when it ends Mendelssohn can't stop himself from chasing Hermann as he draws away. "I-... I don't want you to go."

Mendelssohn stares at Hermann for a moment and then he's shaking his head and looking away. "I don't want to be some kink you're just crossing off a list," Mendelssohn says unable to resist the urge to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand now that the moment's soured.

"You won't be. You're not," Hermann breathes and then he's kissing Mendelssohn again as though he can't stand the idea that Mendelssohn wiped him away. He's pulling Mendelssohn close until he's pressed up against Hermann's side and he can feel Newt's shoulder against his own and he has to steady himself against Hermann because holy shit this is happening.

"You're not weirded out by this?" Mendelssohn asks and Newt's forehead is pressing up against his temple and he knows they're both staring at him and putting him on the spot, but he needs to know that Hermann isn't going to freak out and leave.

"Somewhat," Hermann admits. "But, it's not something I can overlook, or pretend isn't a reality."

"What about this?" Newt asks, turning to kiss down Mendelssohn's neck.

"It's probably going to be something that happens," Mendelssohn says, tilting his head to the side to give Newt more room. 

Hermann's only response is to stare at Newt, breath catching in his throat and eyes dilating before he falls forward as though he has no choice but to kiss Mendelssohn _now_.

"Take me to bed," he says breathlessly, breaking away to nudge at Newt's cheek until he can kiss him, too. "Both of you."

"You don't want dinner first?" Mendelssohn asks but he's pushing Hermann's blazer off his shoulder and Newt's doing the same on the other side and Hermann's leaning his cane against the wall and shrugging his arms out and shaking his head.

"No. I want... I want-" Hermann's surging forward and kissing him hard and his hands are sliding down Mendelssohn's neck to his chest and unbuttoning his shirt, slipping underneath to run over warm skin and then he's wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. 

Newt takes a step back, taking the opportunity watch Hermann and Mendelssohn making out in the middle of the room and there's a small part of his brain that twigs to the fact that this was something he would have never gotten to see if it weren't for the kaiju. He takes off his shirt and then he's stepping up behind Hermann, pressing his face against the back of his neck as he reaches between them to undo Hermann's shirt and pull it off.

He's kissing Hermann's back as Hermann breaks away from the kiss and Mendelssohn guides Hermann toward the bed, stopping in front of it to unbutton his trousers and push them over his hips. Mendelssohn puts his hand on Hermann's chest, pushing lightly until Hermann lowers himself down and makes to follow when Newt grabs him by the back of his jeans and pulls him back. 

"Wha-?" Mendelssohn yelps and Newt smirks at him as he reaches around him, making quick work of his button and zipper and staring at Hermann as he reaches in and wraps his hand around Mendelssohn's dick.

Hermann's half hard and getting harder, cock heavy and laying at the crux of his thigh, resting on his elbows as he stares at Newt's hand and Mendelssohn moans and leans back against Newt, head turning to press his forehead against Newt's temple.

"You like that?" Newt murmurs, pulling Mendelssohn's jeans aside to show more skin.

"I'd like it _more_ if you were both down here with me," Hermann says, not looking away.

Newt smirks and kisses Mendelssohn as he removes his hand and pushes his jeans down and then Mendelssohn's twisting awkwardly in his arms, kicking his jeans off and kissing his way down Newt's neck as he returns the favour.

"Stop teasing and get down here," Hermann grouses waving a hand as he pulls himself further up the bed until he's resting on the pillows. 

Mendelssohn smiles into the kiss and pulls back to look Newt in the eye. "This is happening," he says in a low tone and Newt can't help but laugh in response.

" _Nothing_ is happening," Hermann says from the bed and Mendelssohn pulls away and kneels on the edge.

"Oh my _god_ , you're even grouchy when you're about to have sex," Mendelssohn says as he crawls up the bed until he's hovering beside Hermann. "Is there ever a time when you're _not_ grouchy?"

"When I'm _having_ sex," Hermann retorts and tugs him down until he's lying beside him and kisses him, one hand sliding over his shoulders and down his back, the other down his chest to his stomach to reach between Mendelssohn's legs and wrap around his cock, long fingers tightening and stroking him as Mendelssohn gasps into his mouth. 

"Fuck, yes, _yes_. Herm- _Hermann_. I've wanted this for so long, you have no i-" Mendelssohn babbles but Hermann cuts him off with a kiss and all he can do is return it, muffling small noises and curses into his lips until Hermann's hand's stuttering on Mendelssohn's cock and he's gasping and breaking away. 

When Mendelssohn follows his gaze he sees Newt's head bobbing on Hermann's cock, sliding up and down in long pulls and Mendelssohn doesn't really blame him for getting distracted. He twists to get a better angle and wraps his own hand around Hermann's and starts tugging as he leans his forehead against Hermann's cheek and they both watch Newt work Hermann's cock.

"Sorry, s-sorry," Hermann pants throwing Mendelssohn an apologetic look that quickly morphs into one of slack jawed pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as he moans a moan that Mendelssohn feels as a spike of pleasure low in his gut.

"S'okay," he says and he's kissing Hermann wherever he can reach as he picks up the speed on his cock. "It's hot. You're- This is- Everything's _hot_." And he never thought watching himself blowing someone would fall under that banner but it does and he doesn't know which he wants more: to be the one sucking Hermann, or the one Newt's sucking and that realisation hits him hard. He's picturing it - Newt's lips sliding down his cock - and he could have that, any time probably, but the part that hits him hardest is that he _wants_ that. He wants Newt almost as much as he wants Hermann and he isn't sure when that tipped over from _available_ to _desirable_ but it has and it did and he has to kiss Hermann to stop himself from saying _his own goddamn name_ as he comes over his wrist and stomach.

He collapses against Hermann's side, pressing his face into his neck as he breathes heavily and he can hear the wet sounds of Newt sucking and Hermann's breathless pants of _yes, yes, nearly_ and _please_ and then he feels him tensing and his arm tightens around Mendelssohn and the long, drawn out moan that ends in a hiccupping sigh tells him that Hermann's just come.

He feels the bed move under them and looks up to see Newt crawling to lay himself over Hermann's side, kissing wherever he can reach as his hands run over whoever he can touch; Hermann's stomach, Mendelssohn's shoulder.

"Fuck, that was hot. Want to see it again. Want to watch you come all the time," Newt says breathlessly nuzzling Hermann's cheek and babbling until he's kissed into silence. 

Mendelssohn opens his eyes and watches, limbs pleasantly heavy and pinpricks of sensation dancing across his skin. He can feel Hermann's body shifting as Newt rubs up against him and raises a hand, fingers trailing clumsily over Newt's hip until he can get a hold of Newt's dick, rubbing his palm over the head and smirking lazily as Newt gasps and breaks away. Newt stares at Mendelssohn as Hermann kisses down his neck and then he's leaning over to Mendelssohn and kissing him as he adjusts his hips so Mendelssohn can get a better grip. He strokes him slowly but firmly and the angle's awkward but Newt doesn't seem to care, whimpering into Mendelssohn's mouth as his hips roll in time.

"Suck him," Hermann murmurs, voice rumbling low in Mendelssohn's ear, turning his head to kiss below his jaw and Mendelssohn sighs into Newt's mouth; if there were a chance in hell he could get hard again so soon, he would already be there. 

He pushes Newt back and follows, feeling Hermann's fingers trail across his back as he stretches across Hermann's torso and presses Newt into the bed, kissing his way down his abdomen until he reaches his cock. He cups Newt's balls, pulling them away lightly because he knows - he _knows_ \- it'll make Newt gasp and arch and he'll whimper as Mendelssohn sucks him in. 

Hermann shifts underneath him and he knows that if he looks up he'll see them kissing but he just closes his eyes and focusses on the dick in his mouth. There's a part of him that thinks he should be weirded out by this - it's _his_ dick in his mouth - but he knows this dick and he knows what'll make it feel good. He knows that if he sucks hard and pulls back slowly Newt's toes will curl and he'll be scrabbling at the bed to keep from thrusting; he _knows_ that if he pushes down as far as he can and swallows Newt's breath will catch in the back of his throat and he'll let out a choked off cry. And he does.

He glances up and both of them are staring at him and Newt's hands are fluttering around his shoulder and he knows that means he's close and the absolute certainty that he's getting this absolutely right feels almost as good as coming with Hermann's hand on him. He moans and Newt grabs him by the shoulder, fingers pressing in hard and tight and he closes his eyes and braces himself and feels Newt coming into his mouth and down his throat. He sucks and swallows and pulls off when he feels Newt tense beneath him and then he's rising up and swaying over until his cheek is butting into Newt's and he can press breathless, open mouthed kisses to his lips. Hermann's stroking his hair and he breaks away to hold Hermann's face with a lazy hand and give him the same treatment.

"Stay," he says into Hermann's mouth, sliding to the side so he doesn't crush him. "Just... stay."

Newt's regaining himself and rolling onto his side and they're both looking at him apprehensively, heads pillowed on Hermann's upper arms, wrapped around his torso and holding him close.

Hermann's eyes dart between them, first at Mendelssohn, then at Newt, and then he's blinking slowly and nodding.

"Do you have a tissue or a towel?" Hermann asks and Newt rolls back to grab a few and wipe up the mess on Hermann's stomach, passing a few to Mendelssohn so he can clean himself up. He throws the tissues in the trash and leans across the space between the bed and the wall to hit the light switch.

"I don't think I ever actually thought this would happen," Newt says as he settles back against Hermann's side. 

"I'm glad it did," Hermann says, pressing a kiss to the top of Newt's head before turning and doing the same to Mendelssohn. "I'm very glad it did."

The next morning, Newt wakes to a solid warmth against his side and he stretches, smiling at the memory of the previous night, and opens his eyes and then he's sitting up and staring around the room. 

"Shit."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on track! 
> 
> Scroll quickly to avoid spoilers. Keep reading for warnings.  
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> **Warning:** Blood. Animal trauma (graphic but not permanent). To skip the latter stop reading at "The rat lays there barely moving[...]" and pick it up two paragraphs later at "Oh my god." Context should make it obvious what happened.
> 
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> .

Newt flops back down to the bed and Mendelssohn jerks up, blinking as he looks around in bleary confusion.

"What? What happened? Where's Hermann?" He asks and Newt gestures to the room.

"Gone," he says, and Mendelssohn sits up and grabs his glasses, shoving them on so he can see the room better. Newt's not lying, Hermann's clothes are gone. There's nothing to indicate he was ever there except a few tissues in the trash.

"Shit," Mendelssohn says and flops back to the bed.

"That's what I said," Newt says and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Maybe he just had work to do?" 

"Maybe..." Mendelssohn says, patting his side and kissing the centre of his chest in the hollow below his sternum and Newt thinks that maybe they should talk about that, but he doesn't want to be the one to bring it up. "Maybe we'll see him at breakfast. Come on, get up." Mendelssohn hauls himself out of bed and starts getting ready. Newt reluctantly follows.

They don't see him at breakfast.

It's not wholly unusual, but after the previous night, speaks volumes.

As they eat, they go over results of some of the tests they've done in an effort to find some sort of connection between them but neither of them are really focussing and the conversation descends into distracted silence. Tendo's running late so all they see of him is a wave as he bustles past. 

"He just- he had work to do. He likes working early," Mendelssohn says as they walk to the labs, to convince Newt or himself he couldn't say.

"Morning, Hermann," Newt says tentatively as they push through the doors and enter the lab.

"Good morning," Hermann says, not looking away from his screen, and Newt can't tell if he's coding or running simulations so he's got no idea if this is nose-to-the-grindstone Hermann or get-out-of-my-face Hermann.

"You, ah, you left early this morning," Newt says as he walks over and leans on the railing.

"I have a lot of work to do," Hermann responds and he's still not looking up.

"Right," Newt says and looks at Mendelssohn who shrugs and looks over at the test cages. "Is that _actual_ work, or _you regret last night_ work?"

"I do not regret last night," Hermann says standing and walking to another computer with his notebook. "I also do not think it should happen again." 

"You _what_?" Newt says and he's staring at Hermann as he storms up the few stairs to stand right beside him. 

Mendelssohn closes his eyes and bites his lip, turning away to go check on the rats. He's aware that the previous night probably wouldn't have happened if they hadn't split, but there's a part of him that's convinced that Hermann wouldn't have left if it weren't for him. He can hear Newt arguing with Hermann but he's not really listening, staring blankly at the rats until he can process the difference: there are two rats in the Taurax cage and they're both covered in blood.

"Newt! Get over here!" He yells and hooks a chair with his foot, pulling it under him as he sits in front of the laptop hooked up to the camera. He scans back through the footage until there's only one rat and watches until the rat falls on its side and stops moving. Newt comes up behind him, adjusting his glasses as he peers over Mendelssohn's shoulder and watches.

The rat lays there barely moving except for accelerated breathing and Mendelssohn is about to hit fast forward when he sees it.

"Holy shit," he says, watching as the rat's side starts to undulate as if there were something inside trying to get out. And there is. A lump forms on the rat's stomach and grows larger and larger until the skin over the protrusion splits. Blood trickles from the wound and as it gets wider something pushes through. Mendelssohn wants to put it on fast forward because watching it in real time is excruciating - another rat's head pokes out and then its forepaws are pushing itself out until slides all the way out and slips off the other rat, smearing it in blood and laying beside it, unconscious. As they sit in silence, trying to process what they just saw, they watch the rat's skin, torn and ragged, stitch itself back together until it's impossible to see if it had even happened.

"Oh my god," Newt says, turning away and holding the back of his hand up to his mouth. Mendelssohn doesn't feel much better. "It wasn't a dream." 

"It wasn't _just_ a dream," Mendelssohn corrects. "I don't think either rat was really awake during... any of that."

"Katz needs to see this," Newt says and he's looking a little green. 

"I'll send her the file," Mendelssohn says not feeling much better and braces himself to edit it down to a manageable clip.

"What happened?" Hermann asks as he comes up beside them and both Newt and Mendelssohn throw up their hands to stop Hermann from coming any closer.

"No!" Newt yells stepping in between Hermann and Mendelssohn as Mendelssohn lowers the laptop screen. "You don't need to see this. You will sleep better having never seen this. _I_ will sleep better knowing you never had to see this. Just... just go." Newt puts a hand on Hermann's chest and shoulder and physically turns him away.

Mendelssohn waits until he's sure Hermann won't see anything before he raises the screen and cuts the clip, uploading it to the K-Sci LAN before shooting an email to Katz.

> **To:** katz.b@medical.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Results  
>  **Priority:** Urgent
> 
> You need to see this. You dont want to but you need too.
> 
> ... /Taurax rat.mov
> 
> I dont even know how to warn you. The taurax rat split. Its gross and horifying.
> 
> M.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

"The camera still running?" Newt asks as Mendelssohn hits send.

"Yeah. I'll get the other one." Mendelssohn says and pushes himself up to go digging in the alcove. His legs are a little wobbly and he stops a moment in front of Tesla's run to give himself a moment to breathe. That had happened to them; one of them had literally pulled himself out of the other's body. He distinctly remembers his feet being tangled and the pressure and- 

"Which pilot were you?" He asks, turning on his heel and striding toward Newt. "In the dream. Were you pulled out of the cockpit or, or were you-"

"I was left behind. I was- I was watching as... as it happened," Newt says, pausing in setting up everything they'd need to take samples from the rats. 

"You... you pulled yourself out. You didn't- you weren't..."

"No. No, I was definitely alive," Newt says and looks at Mendelssohn knowingly. "You thought that if we'd had different dreams-"

"It would tell us who the clone was. Yeah, I- Yeah," Mendelssohn says and looks away with a disappointed sigh. "We can't exactly ask the rats."

"They probably wouldn't know any better than we do." Newt turns and looks at the Taurax rats. "Well, maybe not. One of them was very clearly completely covered in blood. The other one's got a lot on it, but there's still patches of clean fur."

"Both of us were completely covered, though. I mean, I was sticky all over, you looked sticky all over. Were you sticky all over?"

"I was washing it out for days. It was stuck in my ears, man." Newt shudders. "Every time I thought I was clean, I'd find more."

"Same," Mendelssohn shakes his head. "We should have taken pictures. Been a bit more thorough."

"Because what we really want is pictures of ourselves naked and covered in blood floating around," Newt snorts. "I think massive trauma and cognitive dissonance is a good enough reason to give ourselves a pass on the shitty science."

"Yeah, but if we'd done all that we could have gotten an answer. We'd know who the clone was. We wouldn't be in this mess," he looks over at Hermann and sighs. When he looks back at Newt, he's staring at Mendelssohn with an indecipherable look on his face, which is jarring because he thought he _knew_ his own face.

"Yeah..." Newt says noncommittally and trails off before coming back to himself and shaking his head. "Go get the other chimera. Second time's the charm, yeah?"

Mendelssohn frowns and walks back into the alcove and digs out the other camera. It's an old D90 but it takes video and it's good enough for what they need. He checks the battery and the memory and grabs a small tripod, taking it back out to set it down on the table where Newt's set up a towel and some collection jars.

Once they're set up they make quick work of collecting the samples, first from the rat they assume to be the clone, then from the original rat. As with each other time they've worked together in close quarters, it's mostly smooth; tools are passed when they're needed and neither of them gets in each other's way. When they're done, they put the samples in the fridge and clean off the rats as best they can, wiping them gently with a damp towel until it they're just lightly tinged with pink, and they set a small metal band on the clone's forepaw. 

"So, The Doors rat is still a singular," Mendelssohn says as he puts the rats back in the Taurax cage. "We can definitely say that the sonic component wasn't just a means of identifying the contaminant in the blood stream. It physically _sped up_ the process."

"They also ate more, but didn't shit more," Newt says then cringes and smacks himself in the forehead. "Dude. _Dude_. We are so fucking stupid. We were eating _so much_ fucking food after we got out of quarantine and none of it really went anywhere. You _know_ we were getting a little tubby in that suit. _More_ than a little; we- you- I was the only one who saw it because I was the only one around when the suit was completely off. Katz must have seen it. She must have."

"All the food we took in was- it used _everything_. You can't make something from nothing. It took all the energy and stored it away - that was probably what we saw under the blacklight - and co-opted the waste into becoming building blocks for the clone."

"Then when it had enough, it took the pieces it already had, gave one final push and created the rest and _that's_ why it was inert after the split - it had done it's job. It had created the clone." Mendelssohn sits heavily in a chair and stares up at Newt.

"And the sonic component?" Newt asks and it's Mendelssohn's turn to cringe.

"Fuck. We were so reliant on the camera to capture the split that we didn't fucking see what was right in front of us." He turns to the laptop and scans back through the footage. "See, here." He waves Newt over and hits play. "Every time the Taurax roar played, the rats freaked out for a moment but after a while would go to the food bowl and eat. It'd almost be Pavlovian, except for the fact that the response isn't conditioned."

"The sound signals the substance, which twigs hunger pangs, which makes the rat eat, which gives the substance more energy, which speeds up the process," Newt says slowly, working through the idea. "So, if we'd eaten more, and been exposed to more of the sonics, we would have split much faster."

"There's also the fact that we're bigger, but yeah. That's pretty much what I'm thinking," Mendelssohn says and watches as Newt scrubs his hands over his face. "So, now we know how it works. We just have to figure out how to stop it."

"Dude, we are so screwed. Everything we have that'll kill a silicone based organism is also guaranteed to kill _us_ ," Newt says.

"We'll get Katz on it. She's making _some_ headway with the Kaiju Blue victims. It's got similar properties," Mendelssohn says as he stands and looks at the clock. "First, we're getting dinner. It's six, man."

"Yeah, sure," Newt says and follows Mendelssohn across the room. He stops in the middle and looks over at Hermann, hunched in front of one of the computers, typing at speed.

"Hermann," Mendelssohn says, just to see if he can get Hermann's attention or if he's so focussed on his work it's a lost cause.

"What?" Hermann says, turning to glare at them over his glasses.

"We got distracted, but, uh, I think we were in the middle of something..." 

"We were not," Hermann says and turns back to the screen, staring at it blankly, fingers rubbing the keys in a way that means he's not thinking about work.

"Dude, we were _good_ together," Mendelssohn says looking at Hermann at a loss.

"All of us. I mean, it wasn't super awkward. No one got poked in the eye by any part of anyone else's body. That's like a gold medal standard for group sex," Newt says with a shrug. "Can you at least tell us _why_?"

Hermann starts typing, as if he's going to ignore the request but after a moment the tapping slows and his shoulders slump. He closes his eyes and looks down at the keyboard with a sigh before standing and grabbing his cane to walk towards them. He stops at the base of the stairs looking uncomfortable

"I got up, in the middle of the night, to use your bathroom... In the time I was gone... you and he had gravitated toward each other, curled up together... you were wrapped up in each other's arms and..." Hermann sighs before looking up at Newt and Mendelssohn with a determined expression. "You and he? You complement each other. You _fit_. I cannot better that. I cannot _add_ to that. You and I? _He_ and I? We are good at arguing. We make each other tense and frustrated and _angry_. That's no foundation on which to build a relationship, short term or otherwise."

"What? _No_." |  "What? _No_."  
---|---  
  
Newt and Mendelssohn storm forward, stopping less than a foot away from Hermann and they each want to be the one Hermann's looking at but there isn't time to fight with each other.

"We're not _good_ at _arguing_ ," Newt says, a hand coming up in frustration as though he isn't sure if he wants to push Hermann or pull him close.

"We're _bad_ at _communicating_ ," Mendelssohn follows up and he's pressing into Hermann's space, getting as close as possible without actually touching. "It feels like every time we make any sort of progress, we backslide somehow and devolve into petty bickering. And I want, I just want-" 

"I _want_ to talk to you. It's been eight years and I _still_ want to talk to you," Newt says and he's pressing in close to Hermann, too. "Maybe you weren't paying attention, but me and him? We fight. We piss each other off. We want to be the _only_ one of us. But you _are_ the only one of you."

"And _we_ want _you_. Both of us." 

Hermann looks at Newt and then at Mendelssohn as if he can't quite process what they're telling him. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he works out what to say. "I don't know how to handle both of you."

"I guess, if you only wanted one of us, you could... you could choose?" Newt says looking at Mendelssohn and they both know this is _barely_ a viable option and they haven't thought it through enough to even begin to imagine the ramifications. "Or, um, we could switch off? Um. I-" Hermann cuts him off, taking a deep breath and cupping his jaw before looking him determinedly in the eye. 

"If... if we are going to do this... it has to be _you_." He leans down and kisses Newt softly and Newt's pressing forward and kissing back and Mendelssohn watches, feeling his chest tighten and throat constrict. Hermann's made his choice. 

Mendelssohn's shoulders slump as he looks to the side, blinking rapidly as he steps away when suddenly Hermann's hand darts out and catches him by the front of the shirt.

"It has to be _you_ ," he says as he pulls Mendelssohn close, then he's pressed up against Hermann and Newt and Hermann's kissing him, just as softly. "You are who you are and you are, both of you, _you_. I couldn't single you out. I couldn't be that cruel."

"Making me think you were choosing him was kind of cruel," Mendelssohn says, heart still tight with rejection, and even with Hermann's arm wrapped tightly around him, there's a part of him that wants to lash out and pull away. "You've got to stop doing that to me. That's... that's twice in a day. Fuck."

"I'm sorry," Hermann says, pulling Mendelssohn in close and kissing his temple. "What was it you said about being bad at communicating? It's not often one man has two people standing in front of him saying 'pick us'. It's hard to have a meaningful moment with more than one person."

Mendelssohn drops his head to Hermann's shoulder, avoiding the guilt in his eyes as he tries to get his shit together. He feels Hermann pressing his lips against the top of his head and then Newt's arm is wrapping around him and he hears a low _I'm sorry_ murmured in his ear.

"What?" Mendelssohn raises his head and looks at Newt in confusion. "If he chose you it wouldn't have been _your_ fault."

"No, it's not- You told me and I looked but I still didn't see it. You do get treated differently," Newt says looking slightly ashamed as he presses his head against Mendelssohn's. "I've got your back now."

"As do I."

Mendelssohn tilts his head to the side and sees Hermann looking at him solemnly. "Thanks, guys." He says taking a deep breath and standing up a little straighter. "How did this get to be about me? We're supposed to be talking about Hermann and how he's an idiot for trying to martyr himsellf."

"It wasn't an attempt at martyrdom," Hermann says, pulling back slightly and looking away. "It wasn't any sort of self-sacrifice. I was- It was... It was an attempt at self- _preservation_."

Newt and Mendelssohn jerk back and frown at Hermann.

"What even are you talking about?" | "That doesn't make any sense."  
---|---  
  
"I didn't want to admit that it was my own stubborn pride that kept me from... from letting myself... I didn't want to admit that I may have been... wrong about you," Hermann says, mouth pulling down at the side. " Even after last night, I- It felt like I would be _found out_. I nursed that bitter resentment of you for so long that... that when it started to trend... in another direction, I pushed it aside and refused to see it for what it was."

"What was it?" Newt asks curiously.

"You're really going to make me say it?" Hermann asks looking pained.

"Well, yeah," Newt says, nudging Hermann with his arm. "Bad at communicating, remember? I can't read your mind."

Hermann sighs and looks to the side. "Attraction," he says quietly and he's avoiding Newt and Mendelssohn's eyes so he misses the way Newt's face lights up and Mendelssohn's can only be doing the same.

"You think I'm hot." |   
---|---  
| "You're _attracted_ to me."  
"It must be our magnetic personality..." |   
| "...fantastic hair..."  
"...stunning good looks." |   
| "Do you have a thing for ink?"  
"You like a painted man?" |   
| "Admit it, you checked me out  
in all those emergency showers."  
  
"Will you just _stop_?" Hermann spits and he's pulling away. "You take things _too_ far. It's incessant and unrelenting and-"

"Hey, hey, _hey_ ," Newt says following Hermann and trying to silence him with a kiss - Hermann pulls away and keeps talking and it would figure that that wouldn't work on him. "It's mut- Hey, listen to- _listen to me_ \- It's _mutual_." He leans in and kisses Hermann softly. "We're teasing. I like that you like me. That you like _us_."

"We like you, too," Mendelssohn says, rubbing his hand down Hermann's back. "Let us take you out to dinner. Make it up to you?"

"There's a little place in Kowloon; it's not really quiet, but it's good," Newt follows up and Hermann looks at them in disbelief.

"You want to take me to the Boneslum on our _first date_?" Hermann says and both Newt and Mendelssohn deflate a little.

"No, but see, it's really good. I go there whenever I can because they've got these little wontons and-"

"Perhaps it would be best if we went somewhere that you aren't _known_?" Hermann cuts Newt off, smoothing a hand over the back of Newt's head and looking meaningfully between the two of them.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Right. That'd probably- Yeah, there'd be awkward questions. I'll, um, I'll ask Tendo for a recommendation?" Newt tries and Hermann inclines his head. "Okay, I'll go do that. We can leave whenever you're ready," Newt says and turns to walk away and stops before spinning on his heel and coming back to kiss Hermann, long and slow. 

Hermann stumbles slightly at the suddenness, but Mendelssohn's there to steady him, smirking as Newt kisses the look of shock off his face before pulling back with a satisfied smile.

"I get to do that now," he says with a grin and gives Hermann another quick kiss before pecking Mendelssohn on the side of the head and heading out of the room.

Mendelssohn shakes his head as he watches Newt go before turning to look at Hermann. "Were you doing anything? We can postpone if you want."

"No... No, I was not getting a lot of _work_ done," Hermann says and pauses a moment before wrapping Mendelssohn up in a tight, unexpected hug. "I _am_ sorry." 

"What? Is this about- Forget about it. I was being a giant baby. It's-"

"No, you weren't," Hermann says pulling back but not letting go. "How I treat you is a reflection on _me_ , not you. Please don't allow me to treat you as secondary or unimportant; you are neither of those things."

Mendelssohn blinks up at Hermann. He hadn't expected him to address it outright. He figured it would be one of those things that remained unspoken and would eventually lead to the downfall of their relationship - just like the other times. It takes him a moment to remember the whole 'bad at communicating' thing and it makes him wonder if it's him and Hermann who are bad at it, or if he's just bad at it in general.

"Um, thanks. Thanks, that means- it means- I'll, uh, I'll try not to." Mendelssohn says and Hermann smiles down at him, pulling away to lower himself to sit on the stairs, patting the spot beside him and waiting until Mendelssohn joins him before speaking.

"I've watched you," Hermann says quietly, looking over at Newt and Mendelssohn's side of the room. "Both of you. It's hard to get my head around at times but you are, for all intents and purposes, exactly the same person. Sometimes you'll be standing on opposite sides of the room, not looking at each other, and you'll move in exactly the same way; scratching your head or adjusting your trousers. It's like I'm seeing double. Or you'll have a conversation completely in half sentences, devoid of nouns, and it seems to make sense to the two of you, but I wouldn't be able to say what you were talking about in even the vaguest of terms."

"Well, yeah. That's what we've been saying the entire time," Mendelssohn says looking at Hermann with a frown. "You didn't believe us?" 

"Belief isn't the issue," Hermann says, stretching his legs out in front of him and rubbing the small of his back. "When I look at you, the both of you, together - and I would assume other people do this, too; people who know you - there's a moment of dissonance. There are two of you where there was only one. It... it shakes my worldview; makes me question reality, my sanity. I feel extra defensive when I see you together."

"You should try it from the inside," Mendelssohn says, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. "I open my mouth to say something and I'm already saying it two feet to my left."

"I can imagine that would be disconcerting," Hermann says and looks at Mendelssohn consideringly. "Do you remember the night I came to see you in quarantine?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Mendelssohn says and how could he forget? Being the one to break the news of his sudden status as a potential clone to Hermann isn't the kind of thing that could slip his mind.

"I said that your paths would diverge; that there was a fixed point from which you would develop in different ways. It's already happening."

"It's only been two weeks," Mendelssohn says looking at Hermann like he's losing the plot.

"And already your experiences are changing you. You are... you are quieter than he is; more weighed down by the way the change has affected your life," Hermann says settling so his shoulder's pressing up against Mendelssohn's, warm and solid and comforting. "I don't think last night would have happened if it hadn't been for the conversations we've had; seeing this side of you."

"You like me unhappy." Mendelssohn pulls away, staring at the floor and wondering if he should just send Newt and Hermann off to dinner and pretend he doesn't care.

"I like you thoughtful," Hermann says wrapping an arm around him and pulling him back. "Knowing that you're capable of quiet reflection is an eye-opener."

"I've been quiet before. I don't talk _all_ the time," Mendelssohn says and he wants to pull away again, but he can't deny how much he likes having Hermann's arm around him voluntarily. 

"I wasn't paying attention before," Hermann says and kisses the side of his head. "The juxtaposition of you and he made it clear that you have depth beyond the bravado you show the world. That you have a range of emotion that-"

"You thought I didn't have _emotions_?!" Mendelssohn says incredulously and now he is pulling away because he didn't think Hermann could be that ignorant.

"Oh, hush, I _knew_ you had emotions. I know you _have_ emotions. I wasn't looking closely before. And I especially didn't want to acknowledge that they might exist because I absolutely _did not_ want to be on the end of a one-sided attraction to you." Hermann gives Mendelssohn a fond half-smile and squeezes him tight. "Fat lot of good that did me. It's a wonder we ever got here after that first meeting."

"Maybe I shouldn't have hit on you straight away, but I-"

"You were _hitting on me_?" Hermann jerks back looking scandalised. "Oh my god, you really are a _terrible_ flirt. Promise me you'll never do it again."

"It worked, didn't it?" Mendelssohn says grumpily hunching in on himself and Hermann sighs and shakes his head, lifting Mendelssohn's chin until he can look him in the eye.

"Yes, and it took _eight years_ and a lab accident that _cloned_ you. We could have been here _much_ sooner," Hermann strokes Mendelssohn's cheek with his thumb before leaning in and kissing him softly.

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join?" Newt says as he walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow at the pair of them sitting on the floor and making out. Hermann holds out a hand and waits until Newt hauls him up before responding.

"I think you might be on the guest list," Hermann says with a smirk, leaning down to kiss him. "I'd have to check, though."

"I'm near the top somewhere, party of two," Newt says wrapping his arms around Hermann's middle as Mendelssohn stands up and leans against the railing to watch.

"You find a place?"

"Yeah, there's a little place near Tai Wo Hau. Tendo says it's pretty good. Bus leaves in twenty minutes; we can make it if we hurry."

"Just let me save and shut down," Hermann says and heads back into his space. "Is it raining?"

"Probably," Newt shrugs. "Is it ever not?"

"I can't even remember the last time I saw the sun," Mendelssohn says as he walks across the room.

"To be fair, we've barely left the lab in two weeks," Newt says as he follows. "Should set up an alert from the weather service. 'It's sunny outside, go get some Vitamin D, you pasty asshole."

Mendelssohn snorts as he reaches for his jacket and as he pulls it off the hook he realises that Newt's got a hold of the other sleeve. They stare at each other, neither willing to let go.

"It's _my_ jacket. You-" |  "It's _my_ jacket. You-"  
---|---  
"Hermann, you got a coin?" | "Hermann, you got a coin?"  
  
"What? Oh for- Just a second," Hermann says and rummages in his pockets.

"Heads," Newt says pointing at himself. "Tails." He pokes Mendelssohn in the chest.

"Why do you get to be-"

"Tails!" Hermann calls across the room and Mendelssohn shuts his mouth, yanking the jacket towards him.

"I am totally cool with being tails," he says with a smug grin and pulls the jacket on. Newt silently fumes and stomps off into the alcove, returning a moment later wearing a hooded MIT sweatshirt, zipping it up as he walks toward the door.

"C'mon, let's go. I'm beyond hungry," Newt says grabbing an umbrella as he walks out the door.

They make their way through the Shatterdome as quickly as possible and still end up running for the bus, Newt sprinting to jump through the door and standing in the way to keep it open, arguing with the driver as Hermann catches up. The bus lurches forward and Mendelssohn grabs Hermann to keep him upright as Newt argues with the only non-pregnant, able-bodied person in a priority seat until the dude finally stands up and they can slide Hermann in to sit. 

They have less luck on the packed, rush-hour subway and end up pressed close to him, bracketing him against a partition near the door until they spill out onto the platform at Tai Wo Hau.

"How do I always forget how fucking _insane_ public transit is?" Mendelssohn says, raising his voice to be heard over the exiting train.

"We pretty much never leave the Shatterdome anymore, dude," Newt says and looks over at Hermann, propping himself up against a pole. "You okay? You wanna sit?"

"I'm- Just give me a moment," Hermann closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before pushing himself to stand and walking towards the escalator. "Where is this place?"

"It's on the south side of Castle Peak; down a little alley in those places that went up a few years after Reckoner came through. Look for a sign that says _Patatina_ ," Newt says and Hermann turns around to stare at him.

"You're taking me to a restaurant called _Little Potato_?"

"Um. Apparently?" Newt says as they head out onto the street. "Blame Tendo. He knows the guy who runs the place; said he came over from Taiwan about six months before Reckoner hit, lost everything in the attack. Insurance payout - back when they were still paying out after kaiju attacks - was enough for him to buy a place, open a restaurant. He's still there, so that's gotta say something."

"True," Hermann admits and follows Newt across the street and into the narrow thoroughfares, bustling with people and lit by bright fluorescents and warm lanterns, until they find the place and are ushered to a table in the back corner. They're given menus and, after a brief perusal, order and are left staring at each other.

"So, this is kind of awkward," Newt says after long moments of silence.

"Normally we just sit at the same table and eat. Now we are eating with _intent_ ," Hermann says and takes a sip of water.

"Intent to what?"

"This is a date, is it not? What possible intentions could one have on a date?" Hermann says and Newt smirks while Mendelssohn points a finger at Hermann.

"You told me I'm not allowed to flirt anymore," Mendelssohn says and Newt smirks harder. "Pretty sure it applies to you, too, buddy." 

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm chaperoning a pair of children?" Hermann asks no one in particular, looking at the ceiling for guidance.

"You really didn't expect this?" Newt asks in a disbelieving tone. "Eight years and you didn't catch on?"

"Exactly, eight years. So we can bypass all the 'getting to know you' date conversation and just talk about what we usually talk about without falling into awkward silence, hrm?"

"When did you become the dating guru?" Mendelssohn says and it's Hermann's turn to look smug.

"When it became apparent that I've _been on_ more successful dates than you," Hermann takes another sip and raises a finger to stop the both of them from protesting. "Remember when you were seeing- What was her name? The Shaolin Brave engineer."

"Nikki? Why are you bringing her up? Are you- Is this a jealousy thing?"

"Please. I had a vague, _unacknowledged_ attraction to you. I haven't been _pining away_ for you to return my affections-"

"Remind me again how this is a story about you being successful at dating? Because you're kinda striking out right now," Newt says looking at Hermann with a frown.

"Seriously, dude, you think _I'm_ bad at flirting? Here, lemme try your technique." Mendelssohn turns in his chair and picks up Hermann's hand. "Hermann, I want you to know that I find you _vaguely_ attractive."

"Oh for Pete's sake. What I'm trying to say is-" Hermann's cut off as a waiter sets a basket of bread in the centre of the table and tells them their food will be ready in 10 minutes. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that you stood her up so many times I'm surprised she didn't dump you sooner. If it weren't for the fact that she thought you were 'cute' it would have ended much earlier. I'm under no illusions as to your state as an oblivious workaholic."

"Wow," Mendelssohn says looking stunned.

"No, really, _wow_ ," Newt follows up. "What is- Is this- I'm trying really hard not to just start yelling at you now because of the whole 'communication' thing you're so adamant about. But, what- What is- Are you trying to make me feel _bad_ about myself? Because that violates your own definition of flirting and I- No, seriously, man, I'm confused."

"I-" Hermann says and stops, blinking as he stares off into space for a moment before slumping. "I'm not sure where I was going with that. I'm sorry."

"Damn right, you're sorry-"

"Okay, new rule: No talking about previous relationships," Mendelssohn says, holding a hand between Newt and Hermann to belay any fights that might start up.

"I- Yes. Yes, that is- that's a good rule," Hermann says awkwardly. "I fully support the institution of this rule."

"Newt?" Mendelssohn says wondering how he managed to become the arbitrator. 

"Fine. But I-"

"Nope. No arguing. We're on a _date_ , in case you'd forgotten," Mendelssohn says giving Newt a meaningful look.

"This might be a good time to lay a few ground rules," Hermann says tensely, wiping his hands on his trousers as he looks at Newt and Mendelssohn with an air of wariness.

"Okay, so, one - no talking about past relationships. Two - try and clamp down on any defensiveness. Three?" Mendelssohn looks between the two of them, waiting for one to speak.

"Try not to get jealous? Or, at least, try to deal with any jealousy in a productive manner?" Hermann says tentatively. "I imagine that, with there being three of us, there will be times when one person isn't included - not on purpose, simply because they're not there when a conversation or event takes place. I can imagine that feeling left out might be an issue."

"Okay. Seems reasonable," Mendelssohn says and looks at Newt.

"Yeah," Newt says and he's chewing on a fingernail and Mendelssohn can't remember the last time he was anxious enough to do that. He squeezes Newt's knee under the table and Newt looks up. "Sorry, I- Yeah. I can't think of anything. I mean, I know shit's going to come up but I can't think of any generic-broad-specifics that'll cover us. Uh, Hermann should always have a coin in his pocket?"

Mendelssohn snorts and Hermann chuckles and the tension that had hung over them since the argument finally dissipates.

"See? We're not so bad at communicating," Mendelssohn says with a small smile, bumping Hermann's shoulder companionably.

"It is easier knowing that you'll hear me out, now," Hermann says and looks down at the table with a wistful sigh. "The number of arguments that could have been avoided if we'd just _listened_ to each other."

"It's like we're growing as people," Newt says with a smirk as their food's laid out in front of them. "Oh man, this smells _good_."

They manage to make it through the meal without devolving into any further arguments. Newt and Mendelssohn telling Hermann about the rat run and Hermann getting positively gleeful at the development of the Mark-6 Jaeger and by the time they finish dessert and pay, they're full and content.

"You, uh, you want to come back to ours?" Newt says as they walk back to the station through much quieter streets.

"I do," Hermann says and Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look.

"Are you actually going to stay? I mean, you don't have to, but-"

"I am." Hermann reaches out and squeezes Mendelssohn's forearm reassuringly and looks over at Newt to convey the same with a look. "I will- I will stay."

The subway is much less crowded on the trip back and they all manage to get seats. Mendelssohn looks at Newt and can tell that they're both a little disappointed; as giddy with anticipation as they are, the excuse to press up against Hermann without getting strange looks would have been welcome.

Forty-five minutes later, they're stepping off the bus and making their way through the Shatterdome, and if all three of them are walking a little faster than they normally would, none of them are going to mention it.

Newt unlocks the door and they all hurry inside and Mendelssohn looks at Newt as Hermann hangs his blazer over the back of a chair. "You mind if I...?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and Newt smirks.

"Go right ahead," Newt says and flops back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows so he can watch. 

"What are you doing?" Hermann asks looking wary as Mendelssohn walks towards him and presses him back into the wall.

"Something I've wanted to do pretty much _forever_ ," Mendelssohn says and kisses Hermann, hands sliding up into his hair and curling to muss it up. He moans into Hermann's mouth as he rubs up against him and Hermann's arms come around him. Breaking away from Hermann's lips to kiss down his neck, he brings his hands down to begin unbuttoning Hermann's shirt and feels Hermann turn his head and speak to Newt, but he's too intent on kissing Hermann's neck to stop.

"This is what you wanted? To push me up against a wall and kiss me?" 

Mendelssohn hears Newt chuckle and the unmistakable sound of the button on his jeans being popped open. "The number of times I've wanted to do it when we're walking through the halls and you're saying something idiotic... Or when we're in the lab and you're lecturing me... I just want to push you up against your stupid chalkboard and shut you up. Maybe drop down and blow you to hear you sing a different song for a change."

Hermann's head hits the wall as he moans and his fingers curl into Mendelssohn's shirt to pull him up from where he's kissing his way down Hermann's stomach. "Save it for the lab," he says raggedly and walks Mendelssohn backwards toward the bed. He pushes Mendelssohn down onto his back and shucks his shirt before settling over him, nestled in the cradle of his thighs as Mendelssohn's legs come up around him.

Hermann's kissing him and undoing his shirt and he's only vaguely aware that Newt's even in the room until he feels Hermann lift his hips and Newt's fingers against his stomach as he undoes Hermann's trousers and pulls them off. He can feel Hermann pressing hard against his crotch and wants to reach between them and feel him skin on skin but then Hermann lets out a low moan and breaks away from the kiss, panting heavily as his hands tense on Mendelssohn's shoulders.

"He- he's got his tongue in your ass, doesn't he?" Mendelssohn says low into Hermann's ear and Hermann can only whimper and nod in response, head dropping to press heavily against Mendelssohn's cheek. "Mmm, you like that, don't you? You want him to fuck you?"

Hermann shudders, lips dragging wetly over Mendelssohn's cheek as he raises his head to look him in the eye and responds with a guttural _God, yes_ , before he's kissing Mendelssohn again. He feels Hermann spread his legs wider, muffling his moans into Mendelssohn's mouth, and then he's rolling his hips, grinding down against Mendelssohn's crotch and back into Newt's face and his head's dropping down and he's breathing heavily against his neck.

Mendelssohn stretches out a leg and pokes Newt in the shoulder. "Do it," he pants and Hermann makes a muffled, emphatic sound of agreement. He watches as Newt scrambles up, wiping his mouth as he grabs a condom from the box, tears it open and slips it on before slicking himself and kneeling against the bed between Hermann's legs.

"You ready, Herm?" He asks, sliding a hand up Hermann's back. 

Mendelssohn turns his head and nudges Hermann's cheek with his nose and Hermann takes a deep breath and looks up, glancing over his shoulder. 

"What are you waiting for? Christmas?" Hermann growls and then Newt's pushing in and Hermann's sighing against Mendelssohn's cheek, eyes drifting closed as a look of bliss takes over his features. His hands slide under Mendelssohn's shoulders and he's gripping him tightly with a small, breathless _yes, yes, god, yes_ as Newt starts to move. He kisses Mendelssohn as his hips move, rocking against him in counterpoint to each of Newt's thrusts. 

Mendelssohn rubs his hands up and down Hermann's back and wishes he'd thought to _undo his fucking jeans_ before this all started because now his cock's trapped and Hermann's rubbing up against him and there's no way he can get it out without making everything stop. Hermann breaks away as Newt picks up speed and he's whimpering against Mendelssohn's cheek, forehead pressing against his and as he starts to mutter and swear and he's getting louder and Mendelssohn can't help but laugh at how demanding and crude he is with his _faster_ and _harder, harder damn it_ and _fuck, yes, Newt_. 

He wiggles a hand between them, cupping his palm and pressing Hermann's cock up against his stomach, giving him a place to thrust, and then Hermann's cutting himself off and kissing him wet and sloppy and his hips are working faster completely disregarding the rhythm Newt's set up and he's spilling over Mendelssohn's fingers and groaning into his mouth.

Hermann goes pliant against him, sliding down and breathing heavily into Mendelssohn's neck and when Mendelssohn looks up he sees Newt staring at him intently and he can't look away even when Newt's eyes squeeze shut and he comes with a ragged moan. 

That's his face. That's what he looks like when he comes fucking someone.

Newt slumps forward breathing heavily against Hermann's back and Mendelssohn has to kick him a few times before he slides to the side and Mendelssohn can breathe again. He pushes Hermann carefully onto his back and unzips, digging a hand into his pants so he can jack himself as he kisses Hermann's neck and chest until Hermann, lazy and uncoordinated, places a hand over his and stops his motion.

"Fuck me," Hermann says in a low tone and Mendelssohn stops and stares.

"What? But, no, you've- Wait, you want- you _want_? Holy shit, you want, you really-" Mendelssohn scrabbles on the bedside table for a condom, clumsy with need, and by the time he's slicked and kneeling between Hermann's legs, pulling his ass to hang off the bed, he's pushing up his glasses and staring at Hermann with wide eyes. "You're sure? You're sure-sure? You're really sure? Because I don't-"

"For the love of-" Hermann says and there's a hint of annoyance in his post-orgasmic haze as he reaches under his thigh and pulls his leg up so the calf's resting on Mendelssohn's ass and he's pulling him forward. "I really, _really_ want you to-" He's cut off as Mendelssohn pushes in and then he's arching languorously, an expression of bliss smoothing out the frown in his brow and Mendelssohn's moaning as he stares. 

He's got no finesse - too worked up from watching and _feeling_ \- and his strokes are uneven and desperate, and the way Hermann's writhing underneath him, whimpering breathlessly, is driving him higher. He wants to stretch up, wants to kiss Hermann, but the angle's all wrong and he can't reach so he drops his head to Hermann's chest, kissing wherever he can reach, and he's holding onto Hermann's thigh so he can push in deeper and his skin is tingling and sweating and he feels a bump against the side of his head and when he turns to look Newt's right there pressing in to take his lips and kiss him roughly. Newt's hand slides down his back, rucking up the shirt until he can touch skin, and then a finger's sliding between Mendelssohn's ass cheeks and rubbing against his hole and his hips are stuttering and as Newt pushes his finger in his entire body tenses and he gives a few solid final thrusts as he comes moaning into Newt's mouth.

He takes a moment to breathe and carefully lowers Hermann's leg to the bed as he slides out and disposes of the condom before collapsing face down beside him. There's a hand on his back and Hermann's rolling onto his side, nuzzling Mendelssohn's cheek until he turns his head and lets himself be kissed. He can hear Newt moving around the room, but he's too tired and fucked out to pay attention until he feels his pants being tugged off his legs.

"Up. C'mon. Into bed," Newt says, swatting him on the ass and then he's holding out a guiding hand as Hermann turns stiffly and crawls to lay face down in the middle of the bed.

"I haven't been fucked like that in an age," Hermann says with a beatific smile as Newt pulls the covers out from under him and spreads them over top.

"And it took two of us to wear you out," Mendelssohn says as he takes his glasses off and crawls under the cover, curling up on his side and pressing a kiss to Hermann's shoulder.

"He'd probably still be going if you hadn't come," Newt says and puts his glasses on the nightstand. There's a clatter and Newt swears, dropping to his knees to look for them and Mendelssohn rolls his eyes and presses up closer to Hermann. Newt finally finds his glasses and places them carefully on the nightstand before flicking off the lightswitch and climbing in to settle on Hermann's other side. "You still going to be here when we wake up? Because I can totally sleep on top of you to make sure you don't wander off." 

"I'll still be here," Hermann says, reaching out to stroke Newt's cheek. "You don't have to worry."

"You should be warned," Mendelssohn says through a yawn. "I will yell at you for at _least_ three days if you're gone and you don't have a good reason."

"I'd expect nothing less," Hermann says drily as he turns to kiss Mendelssohn's forehead before settling down to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scroll quickly to avoid spoilers. Keep reading for warnings.  
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> **Warnings:** Repeat of the outcomes of the animal testing, but without the graphic description.
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Newt wakes with a warm weight against him and he's almost hesitant to open his eyes. When he finally works up the courage, it's to a sigh of relief - Hermann's on his side, arm thrown over Newt's middle, and Mendelssohn's spooning him closely.

"Good morning," Hermann says quietly and Newt realises he's been staring at him the entire time.

"Morning," he replies and looks over Hermann's shoulder - Mendelssohn's still asleep. "Been awake long?"

"Half an hour, perhaps," Hermann says with a small shrug.

"I forgot you always get up ridiculously early. You should have woken us up," Newt says quietly, lightly stroking his arm.

"I was watching you sleep."

"Creeper," Newt says with a smirk and rolls on his side to kiss Hermann slowly. 

Mendelssohn stirs behind them, stretching and pulling Hermann away as he comes awake.

"Wha?" He says groggily as he peers over Hermann's shoulder. "What'd I miss? You're still here?"

"I am," Hermann says with a smile, rolling onto his back so he can pull Mendelssohn down to kiss him. "I wouldn't have been able to leave without waking you, anyway."

Mendelssohn and Newt exchange a look, Mendelssohn's arm tightening around Hermann's middle involuntarily as they try to parse the meaning behind that sentence.

"I'm too old and stiff - _hush_ \- to move with any degree of stealth anymore," Hermann says wistfully. "As much fun as the spontaneity has been, I'm afraid we're going to have to be a touch more regimented about it in future; my joints aren't accepting this level of deviation from my routine well. It'll take at least a week to get me back to where I was." At Newt and Mendelssohn's blank stares Hermann sighs. "My stretches; I haven't done them in three days and I _need_ to do them morning and night or I'll shrivel up like a wizened old crone."

"So, what you're saying is you need to limber up for the sexlympics?" Newt says with a smirk and Hermann swats his shoulder.

"For the record, I'm totally cool with that," Mendelssohn says leaning down to drop teasing kisses to Hermann's lips. "Watching you stretch was sort of the highlight of quarantine."

"Incorrigible," Hermann says fondly and pulls Mendelssohn down to kiss him properly. "This is an awkward question, I'm aware, but... one that needs to be asked all the same," Hermann pulls back and looks between the two of them with a frown. "Am I in a relationship with each of you, or are we all in a relationship _together_?"

"You're throwing the R word around pretty casually," Newt says and Hermann rolls his eyes, patting him lightly on the head in admonishment.

"We could never be casual, we've known each other too long. Process it and move on."

"You seem pretty confident," Mendelssohn says, looking at Newt with a raised eyebrow.

"I know what I want," Hermann says as though it's a matter of course. "And I assumed that had you not wanted it as well, you would not have pursued me so aggressively. For eight years, apparently. Was I wrong?"

"Well, no. I wasn't _pursuing_ for the whole- I was- It's just... putting a label to it makes it seem... daunting. I mean, we've been on _one_ date and slept together _twice_ -"

"And it was the culmination of _nearly a decade_ of arguments and misunderstandings. I think you're avoiding the question." Hermann looks between Newt and Mendelssohn and there's more than an air of judgment in his expression.

"Well, yeah. You're asking me if I want to _date myself_." Newt looks at Hermann, avoiding Mendelssohn's eye; he really doesn't want to go there because admitting anything - even admitting that there's anything to admit - is not something he wants to do. "The fact that we're sleeping together is already more than a little narcissistic, now you want to bring, I don't know, _feelings_ into it?"

"Mendelssohn? Do you have anything to add?" Hermann asks rolling his head to the other side to look at him.

"Uh, no? I'm with Newt on this one; this situation is already pretty weird." Mendelssohn shakes his head and Hermann lets out a put-upon sigh.

"The fact of the matter is that I don't see how this can work if-"

"Hold up, you've gone from 'relationship this, relationship that' to _'I'm breaking up with_ you'?! What the fuck, man? You can't just-"

" _Communication_ , Newton," Hermann snaps. "I do not want to be a _pendulum_ swinging back and forth between the two of you. It's hard enough to accept that I _have_ emotional needs without taking responsibility for the emotional needs of two other distinct individuals. The fact of the matter is that I cannot see how this can work if _we do not all support each other_." Hermann's breathing angrily through his nose by the time he finishes, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists over the bedspread. Newt reaches out and splays his hand across Hermann's chest, feeling Hermann's heart hammering against his palm.

"Only you could make a speech about teamwork sound that irate," Newt says a little wide-eyed and Hermann huffs.

"So far, the entirety of your contribution to this conversation has amounted to 'I don't want to have sex with Hermann again'. Is that what you want?"

"What? _No_. That's not- Oh my _god_. Can't we just have all the sex without talking about our feelings all the time?" Newt asks pouting a little and Hermann rolls his eyes.

"Of course we can," Hermann says and shifts Newt's hand off his chest. "Starting with no pillow talk. No _lounging around_ in the morning." Hermann shifts, pushing himself to sit up slowly. "No kissing. No hugs. No-"

" _No!_ " | " _No!_ "  
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Newt and Mendelssohn shout; Newt rolling over until he's on top of Hermann, pressing him down into the bed and Mendelssohn wrapping an arm over Hermann's chest to hold him in place.

"No, that's not- I don't get-... I don't _understand_ what you're asking me. _Us_ ," Newt says looking down at Hermann at a loss.

"Do you want us to- Because we-" Mendelssohn stretches up and kisses Newt, eyes falling closed as Newt's brings a hand up to hold him in place as they kiss with frantic desperation.

"Stop that," Hermann says tiredly and Newt and Mendelssohn break apart to look at Hermann with worry. "I want to know that you and he will not rely solely on _me_ for support. I want to know that you're not going to try and play me off against each other. I want you to _talk to each other_."

"We talk to each other," Mendelssohn says looking at Newt blankly. 

"Ironically in this instance, talking to myself is not a problem," Newt shrugs. "It's been two weeks and neither of us has tried to kill the other in his sleep."

"That does not speak very highly for your communication skills," Hermann says drily.

"No, but see, turns out sex is a pretty good motivator and it kind of got us to talk through the whole awkward reality of, y'know, _having a clone_. We talk."

"Of course. _That's_ what-" Hermann stops abruptly, eyes darting rapidly between them. "You've been sleeping together _the entire time_?"

"Well, no," Newt says.

"That first night in quarantine I really did want to kill him in his sleep," Mendelssohn follows up with a shrug.

"But then the next night we talked it through and now check out how not dead I am," Newt grins, eyebrows raised as he gestures up and down his body. "Also how not dead he is."

"Oh for- I've got _two_ of you," he says despairingly, shaking his head and dropping a hand onto his face. After a moment he raises it to look out from underneath, eyeing them shrewdly. "In that case, yes to the other thing." Hermann looks at them challengingly and lowers his hand. At their blank stares he rolls his eyes and sighs. "I want you to _kiss._ If I'm going to have boyfriends _plural_ then I absolutely want to _watch_ my boyfriends plural _get off_ with each other. Hop to it."

"You kinky fucker," Newt says, face sliding into a grin as he leans toward Mendelssohn.

"You've got a thing for twins, don't you?" Mendelssohn says and lets himself be pushed back to the bed.

"I didn't," Hermann says, trailing his fingers over Newt's back as he watches them with hooded eyes. "But I might have a thing for the two of you."

"Okay, see, talk like that isn't making us want to focus on each other," Newt says as he hovers over Mendelssohn, both of them turning to look at Hermann.

"I might have a thing for _watching_ the two of you?" Hermann tries with a sly smirk and Newt shakes his head, dropping it down to rest on Mendelssohn's cheek.

"What do you want to watch us do?" Mendelssohn asks mirroring Hermann's smirk.

"Kiss him," Hermann directs in a low tone and Newt watches as Mendelssohn turns his head until their lips meet, dragging wetly against each other until Mendelssohn sucks his lower lip in, holding it lightly between his teeth as he looks at Hermann. "Keep going." 

Newt feels Hermann pushing at his hip so he slides over until he's straddling Mendelssohn, not breaking the kiss and now he's got leverage. He slides his hands up Mendelssohn's chest, over the tattooed expanse and rolls their hips together, morning wood side-by-side, trapped between their stomachs. Mendelssohn's hands are holding his hips, pulling him down and he has to break away from the kiss to breathe.

"What did you do together?" Hermann asks in a low voice and Newt can see his hand moving under the covers and he has to bite back a moan; Hermann touching himself while watching him make out with his own clone is a situation he'd never even _imagined_ being in, but he wishes he had because it's getting him off better than most of his usual fantasies.

"H-handjobs, mostly," Newt says as Mendelssohn kisses him behind the ear.

"Just handjobs?" 

"We- we fucked. Once," Newt says and Hermann smirks.

"Who fucked whom? Did you fuck him?" Hermann asks and Newt nods, hips working faster as he squeezes his eyes closed as the memory goes zinging straight to his cock. "Do you want to get fucked? What do you say, Mendelssohn? Do you want to fuck him?"

" _Fuck, yes_." 

Hermann rolls slowly to the side, reaching for the condoms and lube and then he's sitting up, tossing the condom onto Mendelssohn's chest before trailing his fingers down Newt's back as he pops the lid on the lube with his other hand. 

Newt can feel Hermann kissing his shoulder as he slips a slick finger between his cheeks and Newt can only arch his back and moan as he slides it inside. Mendelssohn's got his hands on his hips and is staring at him with an expression that's equal parts lust and confusion and Newt knows how that goes so he leans down and kisses him so neither of them are tempted to _think_. Hermann's working him open and by the time he gets a third finger in Newt's breaking away and panting that he's _ready, so ready_ and oh _god_.

Mendelssohn's fumbling for the condom and Hermann's laying back and wiping his hand off with a tissue as he watches and then he's sliding his hand back under the cover and Newt's pushing his shoulder. 

"Pull the- pull down the sheet," he says, already breathless. "Wanna see you, too."

Hermann flips back the sheet and Newt can see that he's gripping himself lightly, not moving, just staring and waiting. When Mendelssohn finally gets the condom on, he shifts so he can line himself up, and then Newt's pushing himself back, watching Hermann's face as and struggling to keep his eyes open and not just lose himself in the feeling of being filled - it really had been too long, he doesn't know why he and Mendelssohn didn't step things up sooner.

He rests his hands on Mendelssohn's shoulders and rolls his hips experimentally as he gets used to the stretch. Mendelssohn's hands are on his hips and he's biting his lip and Newt takes pity on him and starts to move. Sliding up and down Mendelssohn's cock, his thighs are already beginning to hurt and he can't remember the last time he got fucked in this position but he will totally do a million squats if it can become a regular thing. He looks over at Hermann, who's started rubbing himself slowly, and for a brief moment their eyes meet and the intensity in Hermann's stare is enough to make his skin tingle.

They move together languidly as Newt leans down to kiss Mendelssohn - if Hermann wanted a show, he's damn well going to get one. Mendelssohn's hands run up and down his sides before settling back on his hips and then he's kissing down the side of Newt's neck, breath coming more heavily as his speed picks up a little and his fingers dig into Mendelssohn's shoulders. He can feel Mendelssohn spreading his legs wider and holding Newt's hips in place as he starts to thrust up into him and it's just the reprieve Newt's thighs need. He pushes himself upright, hands splayed over Mendelssohn's chest as he closes his eyes and arches, letting Mendelssohn fuck up into him as his breath catches in his throat and he takes himself in hand with a stuttering moan. 

He's not even paying attention to Hermann anymore; he's stretched wide and Mendelssohn's got the perfect angle and pinpricks of sensation are rolling across his body with every thrust and tug. He can feel everything begin to build, his entire focus narrowing down to the tightening of his balls and he's staring at Mendelssohn muttering _fuck, yes, harder, faster, come on_ and his hand's picking up speed, whipping back and forth on his cock and he's moaning and straining and just a little bit more, right there, right there, there there _there_.

He comes with a moan, spurting over Mendelssohn's chest and slumping forward, forehead pressed against Mendelssohn's shoulder as Mendelssohn plants his feet and thrusts into him, seeking his own release without finesse or style, swearing into Newt's ear as he finally comes a minute later.

Newt hears a groan and opens his eyes to see Hermann, head turned towards them and eyes squeezed shut, coming over his stomach, fisting and squeezing his cock as he breathes heavily. Sliding to the side, he squeezes into the small gap between Hermann and Mendelssohn and rests his chin on Hermann's shoulder until Hermann opens his eyes and stares at him with a lopsided smile.

"Get what you wanted?" Newt asks and kisses him slowly and when he pulls back it seems to take Hermann a moment to remember what he was asked.

"If I say no, will you do it again?" Hermann asks with a raised eyebrow.

"If you say yes, we'll probably do it again," Mendelssohn says as he pulls off the condom and tosses it at the trash before rolling onto his side to press up against Newt's back, nuzzling Newt's cheek until Newt turns his head and lets Mendelssohn kiss him.

"I am too _old_ to get aroused again that quickly," Hermann mutters in a tone that's much less annoyed than probably intended.

"Maybe we're conducting an experiment," Newt says as he pulls away from Mendelssohn and leans towards Hermann. "On if it's possible to teach an old dog new tricks." Newt raises his eyebrows, chuckling as Hermann makes a gruff noise, and kisses him long and slow until Mendelssohn pokes him in the kidney.

"Save some for the rest of us," Mendelssohn says.

Newt pulls away long to mutter "Line forms behind me," and leans back in.

"Now, now, there's enough of me to go around." Hermann says as he breaks away from Newt's lips. "And I'm just magnanimous enough to share." He reaches up and cups the back of Mendelssohn's head, pulling him into a kiss and Newt has to take a moment to marvel at the fact that he's squished between Hermann and his clone and it actually feels kind of... good. 

"I've got to get to work," Hermann murmurs, pulling away and edging himself out of the bed.

"It's still _really_ early, man," Newt complains, tightening his arm around Hermann and pouting when Hermann pries his hand off and keeps moving.

"On a regular day, I would already be in the lab," Hermann says, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He glances over his shoulder and shakes his head. "I need to shower, I need to stretch, and I need to change, and all of that will put me further behind schedule."

"At least do the first two here," Newt says reaching out to stroke Hermann's lower back.

"And if you wanted to do the second naked, we'd be okay with that," Mendelssohn smirks.

"Perhaps another day," Hermann says as he grabs his cane and uses it to pull his clothes across the floor before picking up his socks and putting them on. He takes his trousers next and pulls them up to his knees before standing and turning around to do them up. Newt and Mendelssohn watch with matching pouts as he pulls on his shirt, buttoning the top three buttons and pulling his sweater vest over it in a way that suggests this isn't his first time making a quick getaway. "Oh stop that," he says as he pulls on his blazer and toes on his shoes, not bothering to tie them up. Standing before the bed, he waves a hand and waits until both Newt and Mendelssohn are kneeling in front of him. "I'll see you," he says leaning down to cup Newt's chin and kiss him. "...at breakfast." He leans down and repeats the process with Mendelssohn and when he stands he looks at them for a moment and shakes his head. "Honestly, it's like having two eager puppies." He turns and walks to the door, standing and looking through the peephole and Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look as they flop back down to the bed.

"Afraid someone's going to see you?" Newt asks and even though he tries, he can't seem to keep the note of accusation out of his voice.

"Unwilling to enter into a conversation wherein it might be revealed that I'm sleeping with _both_ of you," Hermann replies, glancing back at them with an unimpressed look.

"Fair," Mendelssohn shrugs and looks at Newt who deflates a little.

Finally, it appears the coast is clear and Hermann pulls the door open, waving through the gap as he pulls it closed behind him.

"So, that all went much better than expected," Mendelssohn says and Newt stares at him.

"Pretty sure no one has _ever_ called me a master of understatement, but you just pretty much nailed it right there," Newt says and covers his eyes with his forearm.

"I'm growing as a person, what can I say?" Mendelssohn says, patting Newt on the stomach condescendingly and then his hand stills. "So, uh, we should probably talk about, you know, the whole-"

"Can we just... not?" Newt says, squeezing his eyes shut under his forearm.

"We're going to have to eventually." The bed moves and Newt assumes Mendelssohn's shrugging. He raises his head and looks at him tiredly.

"Can we just, I don't know _, save it_?" Newt says in frustration as he pushes himself up to get off the bed and walks to the bathroom, stopping in the doorway and looking back. "Hermann likes us. _Likes_ -likes us. Can't we just... bask? For a while? This conversation's going to fuck things up and make things weird between us. _More_ weird. Hermann didn't know what he was asking... but you _do_." Newt slides the door shut behind him and by the time he's showered and shaved, Mendelssohn's made the bed and thrown their dirty laundry at the hamper.

"I'll get this shit down to the laundry and see you at breakfast. Whoever gets there first grabs the other a tray," Newt says and starts to get dressed.

Mendelssohn just nods and enters the bathroom without saying a word. 

Newt lets out a frustrated sigh and finishes getting ready before shoving everything in the laundry sack, hauling it over his shoulder and heading up to the laundry room. There are few people around this early so he chucks everything into a machine in the far corner and curls up on a set of seats to wait. By the time the load is done, he's finished going through his email - Griggson's excited about something but won't say what - gone over everything they have on the rats and made notes about things to follow up on. Tossing everything in the dryer, he sits back and reminisces about the days when they had a full laundry service and he didn't have to wait until he ran out of socks before it felt like it was time to take everything down.

He resolutely doesn't think about what Mendelssohn wants to talk about.

When he gets the laundry back to the room, Mendelssohn's gone so he dumps everything and heads up to the commissary to find Mendelssohn sitting across from Hermann and slides in beside him.

"It's been sitting there for a while, it's probably cold now. Sorry," Mendelssohn shrugs. 

"You touch my bacon?" Newt pulls his tray closer and looks at his pile of bacon critically as Mendelssohn rolls his eyes.

"I didn't touch your bacon, man." 

"Better not have," Newt says and starts to eat.

"Honestly," Hermann says looking at them over a spoon of oatmeal. "The pair of you bicker like children at times."

"I'd like to see how well you do at a game of Suddenly Siblings some time," Mendelssohn says and looks over at Newt. "Can you imagine two of him? One would be covered in bruises and the other would be waving his cane about screaming like a banshee."

"Quantum mechanics! Space-time! _I'm_ the real Hermann Gottlieb, you plebeian infiltrator! Get off my lawn!" Newt says in a low, gruff, and incredibly bad impression of Hermann as Mendelssohn snickers.

Newt watches with a cheeky grin as Hermann stares silently for a moment before digging into his bowl and carefully dumping a heaping spoonful on top of Newt's pile of bacon.

"Holy shit, man! What the fuck?!" Newt says as he grabs the top pieces and tries to remove the oatmeal before his bacon gets soggy.

"You looked like you could use some fibre in your diet," Hermann says blandly. "I was only considering your health."

"I- You- Thi-" Newt sputters before pointing a piece of bacon at Hermann angrily. "Bacon desecrator!"

"Woah," Tendo says as he straddles the bench beside Hermann and leans an elbow on the table. "What'd you do to piss him off this time?"

"Existed in a particularly irritating manner," Hermann says drily and continues eating.

"Don't think you won't pay for this, 'cos you will. And I _guarantee_ you won't see it coming," Newt says narrowing his eyes at Hermann as he shoves the strip of bacon in his mouth and pulls a face. 

"So, nothing new, then," Tendo says as he takes a sip of coffee.

"Anything happening topside?" Mendelssohn asks to change the subject.

"Not much. Suits are still pushing the wall. Taurax is still fucking up the Philippines. Same old," Tendo shrugs and then turns to Hermann. "Oh, hey, the Weis are back in fighting form again; they're maintaining complete alignment now that they're not worried about a technical failure."

"That's good to hear," Hermann says clearly trying to suppress a pleased smile. "Fingers crossed no more issues spring up."

"Amen to that, brother," Tendo says and pushes himself up. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to be able to sit down and finish my breakfast before work."

"Yeah, and monkeys might fly out my butt." | "Yeah, and monkeys might fly out my butt."  
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"Okay, I don't care if you're both the same person, the fact that either of you were thinking that is just _strange_ ," Tendo says shaking his head at them as he picks up his coffees and bagel. "Later." He nods at Hermann and strides off.

"I've already had this conversation once this morning," Hermann says tiredly. "One, there is nothing blocking anyone from seeing what's happening under these tables, and two, rubber on leg hair is exceedingly painful. Stop." Hermann gives Newt a pointed look and takes a sip of tea. "Besides, I thought you were angry with me."

"I am," Newt says shoving another piece of oatmeal-covered bacon into his mouth. "Doesn't mean that I don't want to touch you. Or that I don't know about the rubber-leg hair equation."

Hermann narrows his eyes at Newt and shifts his leg away, twisting until he can get his legs out from under the table and stand. "I'll see you in the lab."

Newt and Mendelssohn watch Hermann walk away before Newt turns a speculative look on Mendelssohn. "You tried the leg thing, too, huh?"

"You think I'm going to pass up that chance?" Mendelssohn says, scooping up the last of his eggs. "You couldn't even do it, and you're pissed at the guy."

"Point," Newt concedes and keeps eating.

"So, I was thinking about the clusterfuck the past month has been and I had an idea," Mendelssohn says, pushing his tray away and turning to face Newt.

"I still don't want to talk about it," Newt says hunching over his tray and Mendelssohn smacks him on the back of the head.

"Not everything's about your dick, dude," he says with a roll of his eyes. "I was thinking that this isn't likely to be a one off thing - the whole exposure to kaiju substances thing - and how we really don't have any safe way of dealing with the stuff we get. I mean, it's already been a thing forever it's just never directly affected us before, so, y'know, whatever."

"I'm listening," Newt says relaxing and looking at Mendelssohn.

"What if we built something," Mendelssohn says, eyes bright with excitement as he starts to outline his plan. "We'd need some kind of containment box, a pump and a vessel to catch everything; it'd keep the gland contained and we'd be able to just pump it until it was empty without anyone at risk. Then, once we've done a version for the lab, we could do an on-site variant. I mean, the cleanup crews are usually wearing biohazard suits, but you remember what happened to the plastic on our visor - they're probably not going to be much better off. They'd just need to isolate the gland, milk it, and move on. I mean, if this shit got into the water supply, we'd be fucked. And-"

"Dude, I'm sold," Newt says and shoves the last of his breakfast in his mouth, chewing and swallowing as much as he can as he stands and grabs his tray. "We've got about an hour until Katz comes, if we get to the lab quickly, we can probably bang out a basic plan and get started this afternoon. Come on."

Newt's across the room and bussing his tray almost before Mendelssohn can follow. They spend the trip to the labs trying to get a better idea of how to do it.

"The container will either have to be glass or metal." |   
---|---  
| "What about the containment unit?"  
"It's plastic. Was probably stupid to use it in the first place,but it  
was the best I could do on short notice." |   
| "We'd probably need a barrier between the pump and the gland-"  
"-and it should be a hand operated pump, especially on the portable  
version." |   
| "Don't need to make it more complicated than it needs to be."  
"Just hook it up to the syringe plunger and-" |   
  
Newt breaks off as they enter the lab, holding up a finger to make Mendelssohn wait as he walks over to Hermann who's working on an equation at the bottom of one of the chalkboards.

"Hey, Hermann," he says as he takes Hermann by the shoulder and turns him around to push him up against the board and kiss him senseless. Drawing back breathlessly, he toys with Hermann's belt, pressing his hips close. "Remember how I said I wanted to blow you in the lab?"

"I- Yes. Yes, I- I do recall you mentioning something along those lines," Hermann stutters staring at Newt's lips.

Newt smirks and kisses him softly before stretching up until his lips are beside Hermann's ear. "Bacon desecrator," he whispers and walks away leaving Hermann to stare after him slackjawed.

"You mess with a man's bacon," Mendelssohn says with a sympathetic shrug as he walks towards the rat cages. "You reap what you sow." 

Hermann's face settles into a scowl of epic proportion as Mendelssohn looks at the rats: there's still the same number - two Taurax, one control, one Doors - and they all seem healthy so he leaves them and heads into the alcove, grabbing a tablet and sitting beside Newt. "You check Tesla?" 

"Yeah, he's all good for food and water. Should change the liming this afternoon," Newt says not looking up from the tablet he's sketching away on with a stylus.

"You're drawing up the plan? Okay, I'll do the list." 

They sit side-by-side and work, only occasionally looking up to ask a question or compare work. An hour later, they've got a fairly clear idea of what they're going to need to do - and steal - to put it together.

"Morning, Dr. Gottlieb. Any Newts around?" Katz says and both Newt and Mendelssohn look up from their tablets.

"Good morning, Dr. Katz. They're around here somewhere, I expect - always getting underfoot," Hermann says and Newt can hear the roll of his eyes. "You know, when you're not here in an official capacity specifically relating to me, you may call me Hermann."

"What?!" | "What?!"  
---|---  
  
Newt and Mendelssohn shout, dumping their tablets on the low table in front of the couch and storm out into the lab proper.

"Why does she-" | "Why does she-"  
---|---  
  
"Oh, hush," Hermann says as he looks at Newt and Mendelssohn with an unimpressed expression. "Unlike _some people_ , Dr. Katz has proven that she has respect for intellectual hierarchy."

"Thank you, _Hermann_ ," Katz says looking slightly smug as she turns to Newt and Mendelssohn. "What can I say, you put in the hours, you start to see the perks. Now, you two had some rats to show me?"

"Yeah, they're over here," Mendelssohn says and leads her over to the cages as Newt narrows his eyes at Hermann and follows. "You watched the video, right?"

"You think I'd come all the way down here if I hadn't? This place is damp, man. Everything smells like hydraulics." Katz pulls a face and leans down to look at the rats in the Taurax cage. "You mind if I...?" She asks gesturing at the rats.

"Go for it. We got a lot of the samples done yesterday, still have to do a few more - kind of got distracted this morning - but they seem fairly consistent with our development leading up to and following the split. I'll send them over to you," Mendelssohn says and watches as she picks one up and gives it a cursory visual examination.

"Which is the clone?"

"The one you're holding - check the metal band." Mendelssohn says as Newt comes to stand beside him, still glaring daggers at Hermann.

She puts the clone back and picks up the original taking it over to the table. "You got a towel handy?" She asks, stroking between the rat's ears to keep it calm.

Mendelssohn grabs one and puts it on the table, leaning in to watch as she lays the rat down on its back and stroke its fur against the grain, looking closely at its skin. She examines it for a few minutes before picking it up and carrying it back to the cage. 

"You're sure this is the original?" She says as she switches rats and carries the other back to the table for the same treatment.

"Pretty sure. I mean, it only had blood in the area where the wound should have been and where the other rat touched it. Kind of points to it being the original," Newt says with a shrug.

"And the night one of you was... uh, birthed?" She says pulling a face. "Was one of you covered in more blood than the other?"

"Yeah, we've been over this. We were both pretty much coated in it," Mendelssohn says and looks at Newt. "I think we were out longer in the aftermath and we're not exactly the most restful sleepers to begin with." 

"Couple that with the fact that there was _way_ more blood - seriously, the bed was completely saturated in places - and you've got a recipe for some serious confusion," Newt follows up.

Katz puts the rat back in the cage and turns to the pair of them, pulling a small flashlight out of her pocket. "So, there's no indication that the split even happened. Or, at least, not that we can see without shaving them. Lift your shirts, it'll be easier to see on you."

Newt and Mendelssohn's hands hover at their shirts, reluctant to untuck.

"Come on, it's nothing I haven't seen before. It's nothing _Hermann_ hasn't seen before," Katz says with a smirk and Hermann makes a strangled sound from the other side of the room. "Dudes, how many emergency showers have you been in now? I've never known you to be coy about this.

They sigh in sync and tug their shirts up, lifting them so Katz can shine a light at them and get in close to see and compare. "You did all this when we were first taken in to quarantine."

"Yeah, and I had _no clue_ what I was looking for. I didn't even know where to begin," Katz says and runs her fingers lightly over Newt's abdomen, holding up the light so she can see better. "Thanks to that video, we know the _how_."

"You think either of us wouldn't notice if we suddenly had new scars?" Mendelssohn says as Katz looks between them and moves on to examining his abdomen.

"It's one of those things where _I_ need visual confirmation or I'm never going to completely trust the data," Katz says with a shrug as she straightens. "Okay, you can put your shirts down. So, we know that it doesn't discriminate in what it copies; you've both got the same tattoos - hell, it even copied your haircut. The fact that the skin knitted itself back together and copied the fur right down to the pattern would indicate that-"

"Uh, guys," Newt says cutting Katz off. "The Doors rat is down. Mend, grab the camera."

Mendelssohn pulls the camera over and lowers the tripod, adjusting it so they'll have a close up of the transformation.

"What's happening?" Hermann says walking over and Newt darts over and bodily hauls him away.

"Damnit, Hermann! We've told you you don't need to see this shit. Go back to your fucking equations." Newt shoves Hermann forcefully when they get close to the stairs and storms back to squeeze in beside Katz and Mendelssohn to watch with growing horror as the events from the video repeat themselves.

"That was..." Katz says looking a little pale as she steps back and leans against the table, holding the back of her hand to her mouth. "I mean, I've seen a _lot_ and... That was... It was funny when I saw it in Spaceballs. Now... now, not so much."

"Would it have been improved by-"

"No, it would not have been improved by singing, dude." Mendelssohn cuts Newt off with a smack to the back of his head and looks at Katz. "You going to hang around while we collect samples?"

"No, I've got to get back and it looks like you've got company," she says and gestures to the door where the Marshall is walking through. "Send some up to me when you're done, I'll see what I can find." She turns and walks away, nodding to Pentecost as she passes.

"Doctors," Pentecost says as he strides across the room and Mendelssohn and Newt roll their eyes as Hermann makes a point of standing to salute him. "Dr. Gottlieb, you may return to your work. I've come for Newt and Mendelssohn."

"Right, yes. Well..." Hermann says awkwardly and returns to his work.

"I've just received word from Marshall Doumani in the Sydney Shatterdome that her head of Cryptozoology - Griggson - has made a breakthrough and we need one of you on the next flight out."

"Uh, say what?" Newt says looking at Mendelssohn and then at the rats.

"When, uh, when exactly is the next flight?" Mendelssohn follows up and out of the corner of his eye he can see the Doors rats start to move. "We still recording? We're still recording? Quick, grab the clone so we don't lose track of it."

"Doctors," Pentecost says disapprovingly to get their attention back.

"With all due respect, Sir, we've just had a breakthrough of our own, like, literally before you walked through the door," Mendelssohn says pushing his glasses up his nose as he sets up the sample jars near the towel that's already laid out. "I mean, this is what you pay us for. The whole science thing? We can't just go running off and leaving our _own_ experiments hanging because you want us somewhere else. Science won't stop because you tell it to."

"With all due respect, _Doctor_ ," Pentecost says in a tone that suggests Mendelssohn's walking on very thin ice. "I only need _one_ of you."

"Yeah, and you'll _get_ one of us. When we're done." 

"Mendelssohn, I think you should _listen_ to the Marshall," Hermann hisses from across the room and Pentecost holds up a hand.

"Thank you, Dr. Gottlieb, I have this under control," Pentecost says and Mendelssohn huffs and walks over to the laptop cuing up the video to the point where the Doors rat fell over.

"Look, we're not _trying_ to be insubordinate, but we are kind of busy," he gestures to the seat in front of the laptop and Pentecost raises an eyebrow. "Just... watch this video. Then if you can look me in the eye and tell me we're over-reacting, one of us will be on the next flight out before you can blink."

Pentecost narrows his eyes but takes a seat and waits for Mendelssohn to hit play.

"Stay on your side, H- Gottlieb!" Mendelssohn calls as he walks back to the table where Newt's started taking the first samples. He pulls on a pair of gloves and starts to work, keeping an ear out for when Pentecost reaches forward and stops the playback.

"How long do you need?" Pentecost asks remaining seated and, given that he's seen the split happen a few times now, Mendelssohn tries not to look smug.

"A few hours?" Mendelssohn says looking at Newt as Pentecost stands.

"We've just got to take samples, clean up the rats, make notes, and pack. A few hours should be enough," Newt says turning around with the rat in his hand. Pentecost eyes the rat, covered in blood and face twitching curiously, with a tight jaw.

"I'll have the flight scheduled for three. Who will I tell Marshall Doumani to expect?"

Newt and Mendelssohn look at each other for a moment before turning towards Hermann in sync.

"Hermann!" | "Herm- _Dr. Gottlieb!_  
---|---  
  
Hermann turns around and, after a quick glance at their shoes, responds. "Yes, Mendelssohn?" He says looking straight past Newt.

"We need you to flip a coin."

"You wh- Oh for heaven's sake," Hermann roots around in his pockets until he finds the coin and rests it on his thumbnail to flip it. "Ready?"

Newt makes a wind-up motion and watches as Hermann flips and brings his palm down on the back of his hand. 

"Heads," he says and Newt swears.

"It's me. I'm going," Newt says holding up the rat so Pentecost can tell which of his cryptozoologists he just put out.

"Pack for a week. There'll be a chopper waiting to take you to HKI at three. _Do not_ miss it."

"A _week_?!" Newt says incredulously as Pentecost turns to leave.

"I can make it two," Pentecost says looking over his shoulder as though he's doing Newt a favour.

"A week in Sydney, awesome. Great. Australia, woo," Newt says backtracking as fast as he can. 

"Mendelssohn, I want a report detailing your progress on my desk by the end of the week." Pentecost turns his head and walks out of the lab without another word.

"Sucks to be you, man," Mendelssohn says and turns back to the table, holding up the little metal bracelet so he can slip it on the rat's hind leg when Newt returns. Newt grumbles and goes back to work, and if he's a little slower about it than usual, Mendelssohn doesn't say anything. 

They follow the same process they had for the Taurax rats: blood and fur samples from each rat, the bracelet for the clone, followed by a sponge bath and a comparison of mental notes that they copy down into a lab report. When they're done, they clean up and when there's nothing left to do, Newt sighs.

"I guess I can't put it off any longer," Newt says and looks at the time on the corner of the laptop screen. "I've got half an hour to pack."

Mendelssohn gives him a sympathetic look as Newt turns toward Hermann.

"So, uh, I'm leaving now," Newt says and Hermann grunts, chalk hitting the board harder as he writes. "To Australia. For a week."

"Don't get bitten by anything," Hermann says, still not turning around, and Mendelssohn cringes at the coldness.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me, but... aren't you even going to say goodbye? This reaction is _way_ out of proportion to faking you out on a blowjob."

" _Faking me out on a blowjob?!_ " Hermann grinds out and slams the chalk down into the tray and spins around. "So far this morning you have _mocked_ me, _pushed_ me, and _disrespected_ me in front of the Marshall. _Again_. 'Faking me out on a blowjob _‘_ is the _least_ of your worries."

"You're pissed that I forgot to use your title." Newt says and pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I just can't win with you. You're always going to blow things out of proportion and things are always going to escalate and... Y'know, most of the time, I have a reason for not using your title when there are other people there," Newt says and Hermann turns to stare at him with pursed lips.

"And what reason might that be?" Hermann asks in a tone that suggests he has twelve arguments ready to shoot down whatever answer Newt has.

"I look at you and I... I forget you're not the _only_ person in the room. I couldn't say it before because... because we weren't even _friends_. But, yeah. Yeah. Now you know. See you in a week." Newt shrugs and starts walking away and there's silence for a moment, but then he hears a repetitive thump and shuffle and Hermann's grabbing his arm and spinning him around to kiss him.

"Stay safe," Hermann says and kisses him again, fingers splayed over the back of his head as he holds him in place. "Come back to us."

"I'm going to Sydney for a week, not a mission into enemy territory," Newt says wrapping his arms around Hermann and hugging him close.

"Have you forgotten the world we live in, too? Our entire lives are lived in enemy territory." Hermann presses his forehead to Newt's and closes his eyes and Newt has to squeeze him tight to ward off the fear that's tightened his face. "The Kaijus attacks are becoming more frequent and I don't- The algorithm isn't _perfect_. I can't predict-"

"I'll be okay," he says, gently cutting Hermann off and rubbing a hand over his back to calm him down. "I'm coming back. And you've got a life-sized me doll to keep you company until then. Except, y'know, also me."

Hermann's lips lift at the side a little. "I was hoping to get used to waking up between you."

"You will," Newt says with quiet conviction and squeezes Hermann again before looking up at him apprehensively. "I'm sorry. About earlier. The pushing. It was-... I was sc- It's bad enough that we have to see it, you don't... you don't need that in your head."

"Apology accepted." Hermann works his arms around Newt to pull him close, pressing his lips close to Newt's ear. "I do not apologise for 'desecrating' your bacon."

Newt huffs a laugh and rests his head on Hermann's shoulder. "Give it a week and you can desecrate it some more."

"New rule," Hermann says pressing his lips against the side of Newt's head. "Or, an adjunct to the second rule. Clamp down on any defensiveness, and _try_ not to let things escalate."

"That's... that's a good amendment," Newt says and Hermann pulls back to look at him with remorse.

"I was so angry... I would have just let you go," Hermann says reaching up to smooth his hand over Newt's hair before resting on the back of his neck. "Sometimes... sometimes you do say the right things, Newton."

"So I'm not a _completely_ terrible flirt?" Newt says, lips tilting up on one side.

"Not _wholly_ ," Hermann concedes. "Only ninety-nine percent of the time." 

"I've got to go. I'm running out of time to pack." Newt sighs and finds himself being kissed within an inch of his life. Eventually he has to pull away, looking at Hermann apologetically as he disentangles himself. "I don't think Pentecost was kidding when he said he'd make me stay two weeks."

"I'll let you go, then. Stay safe," Hermann says, taking a step back. "I meant it about not letting anything bite you."

"You can do that when I get back," Newt says with a wink and turns to leave. "Later, Mend." He nods in Mendelssohn's direction and heads towards the door.

"Hold up, I'm coming with," Mendelssohn says and jogs after him out the door.

"You don't have to, man. I know how to pack a bag," Newt says as they walk down the hall and Mendelssohn shrugs.

"Yeah, I know, I just-"

"Want to make sure I go so you get Hermann to yourself for a week?" Newt says snidely as he opens the door to their room and Mendelssohn smacks him on the back of the head and follows him in.

"First of all, fuck you. Second of all, _fuck you_ ," Mendelssohn says as Newt pulls the duffel out from under a pile of stuff in the bottom of the closet. "What do you think's going to happen?"

"Gee, lemme think; I have to go away for a week and my boyfriend's going to be spending it with another man. What do _you_ think is going to happen?" Newt dumps the duffel on the bed and pulls open a drawer, pulling out clothes and dumping them beside. "No, wait, let me tell you what's going to happen. The two of you? You're going to get closer. You're going to do a whole heap of shit that I won't be there for and when I get back you're going to have in jokes and shit that I don't know about and that's going to change _everything_."

"Dude, you're pissed, I get it; I would be too if I had to go away for a week. But... What? Do you think I'm going to actively campaign to turn Hermann against you? Were you even _listening_ this morning? _Last night_?" Mendelssohn sits angrily on the bed and starts rolling things up and shoving them into the bag. "This is _exactly_ the kind of shit he was trying to avoid. Even if I _wanted_ to turn Hermann against you, he wouldn't fucking stand for it. You know why? Because he's _better than us_."

"Then why the hell are you so intent on getting me packed and out of here?" Newt says grabbing a laptop and a tablet charger and shoving them in his satchel. 

"Because you've got fifteen minutes to get up to the helipad and I want you back in a week, not _two_ ," Mendelssohn says and storms into the bathroom to grab Newt's toothbrush and razor and whatever else he'll need, shoving it all in a bag and bringing it out to throw in the duffel. "You're so fucking caught up in the fact that you got the short straw that you completely missed that _we don't want you to go_. Hermann doesn't want you to go. _I_ don't want you to go. Hermann's worried that there's going to be a kaiju attack and you're going to die and now _I'm_ worried that there's going to be a kaiju attack and you're going to fucking _die_ and we're not talking- we're talking but we're not fucking _talking_ and-" Mendelssohn grabs Newt and for the second time that day he's being kissed within an inch of his life, arms wrapping around him, needy and scared and desperate and when he pulls back, breathless and hiccupping, he refuses to meet Newt's eye. "Just... go. Go, and _come back_. So we can _not_ -talk some more."

Then Mendelssohn's pushing away and stalking out the door and Newt's got ten minutes to get up to the helipad and no time to think about what's happening or what's just happened. He finishes packing, throwing a tablet and a laptop and cables into his satchel, tugs on his jacket and hauls ass up to the helipad, running and shouting until he throws himself into a seat and straps in. It's fifteen minutes to HKI and then he's being fast-tracked onto a civilian flight and settling in to stare out the window blankly, knee jiggling until the plane starts to taxi up the runway. His fingers grip the armrest as they pick up speed and lift off and he hates this; hates being told what to do and _hates_ that there's a force that can physically hold him down and restrict his movement. 

Fuck inertia.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep reading for warnings. Scroll quickly to avoid spoilers.  
> .
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Warnings:** Operation performed on an animal. Nothing graphic. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> .

By the time they reach cruising speed, he's going out of his mind with irritation and boredom - the conversations with Mendelssohn and Hermann going 'round and 'round in his head on a loop in a way that he can't make sense of - and as soon as the seatbelt light is switched off, he's on his feet and pulling the tablet out of his bag.

>   
> **To:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** (No subject)
> 
> Wtf is so improtant that i have to come ther to see it?
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt hits send and angrily taps through the research he has access to until he gets notification of a response.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **Subject:** Re: (No subject)
> 
> They didn't tell you? This is going to be awesome. Let me know when you get in.
> 
> Jai Griggson  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Sydney Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt stares at the tablet blankly. He'll admit that there's some part of his brain that's had its interest piqued, but most of him is just a seething ball of ire.

>   
> **To:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Re: (No Subject)
> 
> Ffs.
> 
> I land after 2 you're time.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

He goes opens up the diagram he'd been putting together for the gland draining machine and makes a few modifications, reading over Mendelssohn's supply list, making notes wherever he thinks of something, until dinner's served - which is somehow even less appetising than medical rations - and when he's done there's another email.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** griggson.j@ksci.shatterdome.gov.au  
>  **Subject:** Re: (No Subject)
> 
> I'll come by your quarters in the morning. Take you to breakfast and tell you all the gory details.
> 
> Jai Griggson  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Sydney Shatterdome_  
> 

Newt pulls a face, but he's calmed down a lot since he got on the plane - much to the delight of the person in front of him, he's sure. He thinks he was intermittently kicking the seatback like an irate toddler for the first half of the flight. He sighs and tries to focus on his work and ends up staring out the window wondering what Mendelssohn and Hermann are doing. They're probably in the commissary sitting with Tendo and there's only one of him and it's just like it used to be.

Before he knows it, the seatbelt light is back on and they're starting the descent into Sydney. They're fifteen minutes early, but that means pretty much fuck all at two am, except there's no one waiting for him on the tarmac to lead him to the helipad. He ends up sitting in the terminal on an uncomfortable plastic chair until an apologetic sergeant finds him and hurries him to the chopper. They fly across Sydney and there are still dark swathes cut through the city, wholly dark amidst the flickering lights of the populated areas, from Scissure's attack way back in the beginning.

The Sydney Shatterdome is vast and empty and he remembers stories of the mass exodus from the east coast of Australia; huge convoys of trucks and busses, cars and bikes, piled high with people and belongings wending their way through the Victorian hinterland and across the Nullarbor to the west and the relative safety of the Indian. His footsteps echo hollowly through the halls as he's shown to quarters, sparse and nondescript. All the quarters are equipped with ceiling fans and he's offered a space heater, which he declines with a smirk - it's sixty degrees and everyone he's seen is wearing a sweater. 

He dumps his duffel in the corner, pulls the chargers out of the satchel and sets them up before throwing himself on the single bed, pulling his tablet out and swiping it on to go over the notes he made on the flight. After fifteen minutes he's drowsing and the tablet falls on his face, making his nose throb and his forehead ache. He's about to turn it off and roll over to sleep when it chirrups with an incoming call.

"...telling you he's _not_ asleep. Not all of us are robots who can pass out as soon as our heads hit the p- Newt! Told you he'd be awake!" Mendelssohn's face fills the screen and Newt raises an eyebrow as he moves the tablet back.

"What's happened?" He asks and a million scenarios run through his mind; something's up with the rats, Mendelssohn's pissing blood and is going to die, Hermann's had a fall and-

"Nothing. Nothing's happened. I just thought you'd want to see _this_." Mendelssohn turns the tablet around and, after a brief period of adjustment, he sees Hermann clad only in his boxers, ass pressed up against the wall and bending forward. 

"Aw, man," Newt says with a pout, irritation flaring again, as Hermann looks up at the tablet with a frown. "You had to do it the first night I was gone?"

"Yes, that's the only reason I'm doing this," Hermann says with a roll of his eyes and twists into a different position. "My sole thought was 'how can I make one of my boyfriends' day worse? I know, I'll follow my routine'. Honestly, Newton, it's not a conspiracy."

"I could have just not called you," Mendelssohn says as he peers over the tablet, head filling the top third of the screen.

"Hey, get out of the shot," Newt says and he's so tired and annoyed he physically swats at the screen. "I'm trying to cap this."

"You're what?!" Hermann stops stretching and glares at the screen and Newt chuckles and takes a cap of that, too.

"Hey, I'm gonna be gone a week. I'd've thought you'd be willing to make a deposit in my spank bank."

"Oh for the love of..." Hermann straightens and walks toward the camera and there's a brief scuffle and Newt worries that he's going to hang up the call but then the tablet's being turned around and he can see Hermann pressed up against Mendelssohn with his chin over his shoulder and they're both looking at the screen intently. "How was your flight?"

"Exhausting," Newt says with a shrug. "I'm never gonna understand how sitting for eight hours can be so tiring."

"But you made it okay? They're treating you well?" Hermann asks in a very serious tone that makes Newt smile.

"You're worse than my dad, dude. You've made trips to other shatterdomes. What's gotten into you? You've never been this worried before."

"I've never been... _invested_ before," Hermann says and Newt takes another cap because that hint of a blush is adorable.

"Aww, that's so sweet. Hey, Mend, give him a kiss for me," Newt says and watches as Mendelssohn turns his head with a murmured _my pleasure_ , nosing at Hermann's cheek until he complies and lets himself be kissed.

"You're still capping this, aren't you?" Hermann says cracking open one eye to look at Newt critically but not breaking away from Mendelssohn's lips.

"What do you think?" Newt says and takes another cap. "If anyone sees them they're just going to think I took a bunch of selfies with my stupid boyfriend. Though, if you wanted to step it up a few notches, I'm sure they'll think a few other things." 

Hermann does break away at that and gives Newt a withering look. " _That_ is very unlikely to happen."

"But not impossible?" Newt asks with a cheeky grin.

"You look tired," Hermann says ignoring the question. "We'll call again tomorrow at a _more reasonable_ hour." He directs the last at Mendelssohn who shrugs unapologetically.

"You don't have to," Newt says with a shake of his head and he's never really been self-sacrificing before, but he doesn't want to seem like he's being... clingy.

"We're _going_ to," Hermann says sternly staring down the camera at him. "Just because you're not here doesn't mean we're not noticing your absence. Now, we'll call again tomorrow at ten your time. Sleep well; you look like you need it."

"I am gonna sleep like the _dead_ , man," Newt says stifling a yawn. "And, uh, thanks. Thanks for calling. I, uh, yeah. Thanks."

"It's okay," Hermann says with a smile. "Talk to you tomorrow."

"Later, dude," Mendelssohn says and Newt waves lethargically at the screen as he disconnects and stares at his contacts list for a few long, blank moments before powering the tablet down and shoving it on the nightstand with his glasses. He doesn't bother getting changed or brushing his teeth, just wiggles under the covers and rolls over, trying not to think about Hermann and Mendelssohn turning off the lights and touching each other in the dark as he falls into a restless, lonely sleep.

"Do you have any idea what fucking _time_ it is?" Newt glares as he pulls his door open and stares at Griggson's stupid bearded face.

"A little after eight," Griggson says bouncing on his toes outside the door. "I'd'a been earlier, but I had to find out where they stashed ya."

"You're still an asshole," Newt says and turns back to his room, waving a hand for Griggson to follow him in. "I didn't get to sleep until fucking _three_ , man."

"You want me to come back later?" Griggson asks and Newt groans.

"No, the sooner I get through whatever breakthrough you think you've had, the sooner I can get back to Hong Kong. I've got my own shit going on," Newt scrubs a hand over his face and digs into his duffel for clothes and a toothbrush. "Gimme ten." He showers and gets dressed as fast as possible and stomps out into his room to shove on socks and pull his boots on. "So, you gonna spill?"

"Haven't seen ya in three years and you wanna get straight to work? I'm hurt, mate, really," Griggson says, clutching his chest and Newt just rolls his eyes, grabs his tablet and keys and heads out the door.

"I'm running on five hours sleep in a new timezone and there's too much blood in my caffeine stream," Newt says as he shuts the door behind Griggson and follows him down the hall towards the commissary. "You remember back at the academy? Those all-nighters we pulled?" Newt says and Griggson holds up his hands in defeat. 

"Fine, but I don't remember you being this much of an arse," Griggson says as he leads him to the food line and supplies must be tighter down here because there's just a selection of individually packaged cereals and jugs of milk set out beside large urns full of coffee. 

"It's been a long time, man. I wouldn't be surprised if your memory was starting to fail you," Newt says as he grabs two packets of cereal and fills his bowl with milk, taking it to the table Griggson leads him to and going back for a cup of coffee. 

"So, spill already, oh my god," Newt says as he chugs half the cup of scalding coffee and works out how the hell to open the cereal packet.

"Okay, okay, jeez. So, we've been testing the pigs to see check their development, see if there's any cognitive issues we're just not seeing."

"Dude, I'm not questioning your judgment - by which I mean I'm totally questioning your judgment - but why would you even bother doing that when you've got two _humans_ who are one hundred percent capable of self-reporting and, y'know, speech," Newt asks and takes a mouthful.

"Because, on top of being an arsehole, you're an outlier," Griggson says with a shake of his head. "You're too fuckin' smart for your own good, there'd need to be a significant difference between you and the clone - or you and the other you - for it to be at all noticeable. With the pigs, we've got a steadier baseline _and_ we already know which one the clone is."

"Fair point," Newt concedes around a mouthful of too sweet cereal. "So, what've you found?"

"Well, as far as we can tell, the clone learns slower. We've-"

"The hell? Neither one of us has shown any signs of being slow, I mean, we're actually working really well together, we're - I'll tell you about it later - but it's like what they tell you about the drift - it's not you squared, it's you cubed. We are getting so much shit done, it's kind of ridiculous."

"Like I said, you're an outlier," Griggson says with a roll of his eye. "What we're doing is simple Pavlovian conditioning; bad food, small shock, good food, no shock. The clone consistently tries to eat the bad food and doesn't seem to learn from its mistakes. We think it might be-"

"You brought me down here for that? Dude, you could have just sent video," Newt says dropping his spoon in his bowl and staring at Griggson in disbelief.

"Well, no. The pigs - both the original and the clone - had a tumour. Didn't know about it until yesterday. We're going to biopsy it as soon as we can."

"You couldn't have lead with that? Fucks' sake, man, that's way more relevant to me _flying across the planet_ when we're in the middle of a war than your clone pig having a learning disability," Newt says and starts eating again. "How did you manage to miss a tumor?"

"Thought it was an abscess. They happen sometimes. Figured we'd let it run its course but then it just kept getting bigger," Griggson says with a shrug. "Rate of growth is similar in both pigs. Thought we might want to have the world's leading cryptozoologist on hand to help out. But Sheng was busy, so we called you."

"Fuck you, man. Sheng's the reason kaiju are classified as _fish_ ," Newt says pulling a face. "When do we start?"

"As soon as Stella and Quan get to the lab. Eat up."

Newt shovels the rest of his cereal into his mouth, giving Griggson the finger as he lifts the bowl to his mouth and downs the milk, and grabs another cup of coffee before harassing Griggson until he leads him to the lab.

Somehow the Sydney Shatterdome managed to get labs that actually look like labs - decent lighting, surfaces that don't look like they're covered in rust; it's practically palatial compared to Hong Kong.

When they enter, Griggson walks over to the only person in the room and yanks a headphone out of one his ears. "Quan, Geiszler's here," he says and continues through to his office and Newt is totally not jealous that Griggson has an office. With a door. Not an alcove. With a pervasive odour of damp.

"Dude," Quan says yanking the headphone out of the other ear and spinning around on his chair to point at Newt emphatically. "Your work on artificial tissue replication was _the shit_."

"Thanks, man," Newt says with a grin. "Glad the oldies are still a hit with the young folk."

"I'm thirty-five," Quan says with a frown shaking his head at Newt before changing the subject. "Is it true you managed to make a perfect copy of a human face and stretched it over a turkey to scare your Master's kids?"

"That did not happen," Newt says tilting his head to the side. "Officially."

"You think it'd be as scary on a chicken?"

"You're _not_ going to use one of Geiszler's pranks to scare Stella, Quan," Griggson says coming out of the office with a binder. "We've still got to wait for Stella to get here, but I've got this stack of paperwork I need you to sign before we can start anyway."

"Paperwork? Already?" Newt says making a sound of annoyance.

"Doumani's big on dotting the i's and crossing the t's. We need you covered before we can start. I'd be as pissed as you, but she gets shit done. UN delegation barely batted an eye when they came through. Just need you to sign and initial these three papers here, here, and here."

"The delegation actually came through here? The labs? Man, Pentecost kept them out of ours," Newt says as he signs the various places and tries not to let on when he accidentally misspells his own name. "Probably a good thing, too. The day they came through was the day the gland gave me a facial. Can you imagine if they'd been exposed? The goo probably would have gone into overdrive and we'd have bureaucrats in triplicate." Newt rolls his eyes and hands the forms back.

"Mate, don't even. They've been chipping away at my funding for the past year. Me, Quan and Stella are all that's left of Biological research. They're down to five in physics. Programming's still got a full contingent; probably because of Striker. I mean, Striker's great and all, but I thought they'd be launching more Mark-5's soon, and the co-pilot? Hansen's brother? He's a bit of a-"

"Sorry for being late, sir!"

Newt looks over as a woman runs in, pauses to give a quick bow, and skitters off to a desk in the corner.

"It's three past nine and you were here until ten last night, Stel, you don't have to apologise," Griggson says with a shake of his head as she comes back, shrugging on her lab coat and looking slightly harried. "This is Geiszler, he'll probably get up ya if you call him sir."

"I'm not, uh, 'getting up' anyone," Newt says looking at Griggson with a frown. "But you can call me Newt. Only my mother calls me- Wait, that doesn't work with sir."

"Good morning, Newt. It is nice to meet you," Stella says giving another short bow that Newt returns a little embarrassed.

"Okay, now that we're all here... I'm gonna give a brief rundown of how everything's going to go so we'll all be on the same page, then we'll get right to it. Sound good?"

"Yep."  
"Yes, sir,"  
"Works for me."

"Okay, so we're going to biopsy the tumours on both pigs, starting with the clone and then moving onto the original. Stella, you're our anaesthetist. Quan, you're taking notes. Newt, you're assisting me-"

"Hey, woah, I didn't fly across the planet to _assist_ ," Newt says, cutting Griggson off indignantly.

"You can take notes if you want, mate, but I'm on point here and it's my neck on the cutting block if it all goes to shit," Griggson says pointedly and Newt huffs.

"Fine, I'll _assist_."

"Good. Now, we've all done this before, we all know what to do. Quan, get the tray set up and bring it in. Stella, Newt, you're with me." Griggson leads Stella and Newt through into another room where a pair of pigs are set up in separate pens.

"Dude, how'd you get funding for this? I had to beg, borrow, and steal to get shit set up for our rats," Newt says looking around at the set up.

"My parents have a pig farm - free range, none of that nasty business - down Echuca way. It's a bit far to go, but I told Doumani when I got here that if we ever needed to test the effects of kaiju whatever on humans, pigs would be our best bet. This was way back when we actually got the shit we asked for, so just be thankful I bloody well did." Griggson says and shrugs as he opens up the gate to enter the clone's pen. "Morning, Sugar."

"You _named_ them?" Newt says incredulously, stopping in his tracks and staring at the pig with a giant C spray painted on its back that's forever going to be 'Sugar' in his head.

"I call them all Sugar," Griggson says looking up at Newt as he scratches the pig behind her ears. "Sugar never really dies."

"I don't know if that's better or worse than not naming them at all," Newt says and steps into the pen, Stella follows carrying a small tray and setting it on a low shelf on the wall and sets up.

"Eighteen gauge, one and a half inch, two hundred milligrams of Azaperone," Stella says and turns around.

"Thanks, Stel," Griggson says as he kicks the hay on the floor to make sure it's clean before kneeling down. "Okay, Newt, you and I are gonna hold her down while Stella gives her the sedative. She's gonna squeal and she's gonna kick, so you have to hold on as tight as you can. I'm going to take the back legs, you hold the front. Hold her head down with your elbow so Stella can get in at her neck. You ready?"

"Do I have a choice?" Newt mutters as he checks his own side of the pig and kneels.

"Okay, on the count of three, grab her front legs and we're going to tip her towards you. One... two... three..."

Newt grabs the pig's legs and holds tight as she struggles, pulling her until she falls back onto his knees and he can slide her onto the floor. He holds her head in place as well as he can as Stella leans in and feels around the pig's neck with a frown until she finds a spot, takes a deep breath and steadily injects the sedative. When she's done, she slides the needle out and gently rubs the area and Griggson nods.

"Okay, let her go. No need to stress her out any more. Give it, say, ten minutes and we should know if we need to do it again."

" _Again_?" Newt says as the pig struggles to its feet and wobbles away from them, squealing indignantly. He dusts the hay from his trousers and stands.

"With any luck, Stella found a vein. Otherwise, it went straight into fat and it'll pretty much wear off before it has a chance to take hold." Griggson looks over as Quan wheels a tray in and starts setting up beside the gurney in the middle of the room. "All set?"

"Yeah, man. We're looking good," Quan says.

"Sweet. Make a note: Eighteen gauge, one and a half inch, two hundred milligrams. She's settling, so I don't think we'll have to readminister." Griggson kneels beside the pig, scratching behind her ears as she lies down with a sad, quiet grunt. "Okay, Newt, I'm going to need your help getting her up, then you go wash up while I put her down and Stella puts her under and intubates. Just get your arms under her and lift, straight up. Count of three... One... two... three." 

Newt shoves his hands underneath the pig and pushes up with his knees, holding the pig steady until Griggson has a hold on her and then heading to the sink to scrub up. When he gets back, Griggson has shaved the area just behind the pig's shoulder where a small lump has formed.

"Stella, you good?" He asks as Stella places a mask over the pig's snout and she gives a quiet _hai_ , not taking her attention away from the pig as she places heart monitor pads on its chest. "Quan, keep her dorsal. I'll be back in a mo'."

Newt stands off to the side, keeping his hands up so he doesn't forget he's sterile and start touching things. He watches as Stella finishes setting up and takes base readings before Griggson returns.

"We all good? Sweet. Quan, start recording," Griggson says and nods to the camera set up in the corner.

"August fourteen, twenty-twenty-two. Nine-forty-five a.m. Present is myself, Dr. Jai Griggson, Dr. Stella Ito, Dr. Quan Nguyen and Dr. Newton Geiszler on loan from the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Subject is a seven month old piglet; the clone of piglet number two-seven. Piglet measurements remain the same as at previous videos, with the exception of some weight gain - currently approximately fifty-three kilos. Piglet has been sedated to prevent struggle and injury to both itself and my team. Piglet is suspected of having a tumour, found yesterday after an attempt to drain an abscess failed. Plan is to perform an excisional biopsy to gather as much material for study as possible, so we hopefully won't have to put her under again too soon. Procedure will be performed on the original piglet this afternoon. Area has been shaved and sterilised. Making the first incision now." 

Newt stands by Griggson and watches as he cuts open the piglet and begins the process of removing the tumour, passing instruments as needed and applying suction. It takes an hour and at the end they have a small, pink lump, about the size of a grape sitting in a kidney dish. Griggson closes and then nods to Newt and Quan. 

"I'm going to need both of you to help me get her back down without ripping these sutures," he says, ripping off his gloves and throwing them in a HazMat bin in the corner, gesturing for Newt to do the same. They get her to the floor and Griggson settles down in the corner beside her, scratching her ears. "I'm gonna stay with her 'til she wakes. You and Quan get started on the tumour; let me know if you find anything interesting."

"You got access to a mass-spec here?" Newt asks as he makes his way out of the pen.

"Nah, we usually have to send stuff over to Macquarie then wait 'til they have time," Griggson says looking up and Newt does a victory dance.

"Ha! We do have some things better than you in Hong Kong."

"Well, yeah, Sydney only had a limited research budget. Hong Kong, Lima, Alaska, Vladivostok and Tokyo got all the dedicated Kaiju Blue research. We're mostly Jaeger development and deployment," Griggson shrugs. "You gonna go start those tests? I want to have something to compare it to when we do the original pig after lunch."

"Sure, sure, on it," Newt says with a wave of his hand as he walks out of the room. "Quan, my man, looks like it's you and me on this thing." He slaps Quan on the back as he passes him and leans against the bench. "You wanna slice me off a piece of that tumor so I can get started?"

"You're not gonna try and take over?" Quan says in a disbelieving tone.

"Nah, man. You were on notes; at least I got to help out. Go for it. Set me up with a slide and I'll be out of your hair," Newt says and watches as Quan shrugs and sets up. "You're lizards, right? I think I read your paper on komodos during my third dissertation."

"Yup, that'd be me. Spent a few years up in Indonesia before the war began. Had to come back when things got hairy. Figured I'd get a few little fellas as pets to make up for the lack of big guys down here; not allowed to keep goannas or frillies, so bearded dragons, blue tongues, couple of skinks. Then Scissure came through and I figured they weren't safe in my flat. Had a friend over Taronga send 'em out west when they evacuated the zoo. All set." Quan hands Newt the slide and he takes it over to the nearest microscope.

"They evacuated the zoos?" Newt says and he wonders how he missed that bit of news.

"Yeah, all up the east coast. Did it last year. Taronga Park and Melbourne both relocated to Dubbo; the aquariums've all been drained. Even Dreamworld and Irwin's lot up north were packed up and sent out Alice way. Not a lot of tourism going on right now."

"Holy shit," Newt says staring into the microscope and adjusting the magnification. "This is... this is... _fuck_. _Fuck fuck fuck_." Newt turns around and runs into the other room to the pen and points at Griggson.

"You've got the wrong fucking pig," he says pointing at the pig on the floor. "The tumor's _organic_."

"You're fucking me," Griggson says staring down at the pig. "Nah, mate, we definitely got the clone here. The split happened just before we got to work, like, _seconds_. This pig was _definitely_ the clone. You saw the pictures; she was completely covered in blood, the other one only had a patch on her gut."

"Then how do you explain this?" Newt demands and they should run more tests to be absolutely certain, but he _knows_ the difference between organic and inorganic structures.

"I can't, mate. You've literally just started looking at the stuff," Griggson says and he's staring at the pig, biting his lower lip. "So, we've got two options. We can go ahead with the other tumour excision as planned and the tumour will either be inorganic and prove we've somehow managed to get the wrong pig, or organic and prove that... I have no fucking clue what that'll prove. Or, and this is a bit sketch, we've been keeping up with Katz's work and, yeah, introducing radiation into the equation is probably a bad idea given how little we know about this shit but... we could x-ray the pigs."

"What good would that do?" Newt says looking at Griggson with a frown. 

"I've got a theory, but... you think most of my theories are pretty shithouse, so I don't want to float it until I'm sure. I think... I think it might explain a few things." Griggson looks up and stares at Newt for a moment before nodding. "Yeah... yeah. This is the way to go. Okay, so we're going to follow the original plan: we'll excise the tumour from the original and compare them and tomorrow morning, we'll x-ray them both. 

"Okay. Okay, fine," Newt says and he feels tense and a little freaked out and he's glaring at Griggson like he knows something. "I still want to know what you think is going on."

Griggson shakes his head. "Let's just leave it until we have confirmation either way, alright?" He says and looks away, staring down at the pig.

Newt storms back into the main room and Quan looks up. "What was that all about?"

"Is there _any_ way the pigs could have been mixed up or swapped?" Newt asks and it's not that he doesn't trust Griggson to keep his own specimens in order it's that this isn't making any sense. 

"You saw the mark on the clone's back? I did that myself five minutes after we'd finished washing her off. The pigs were separated and haven't been in the same pen since they split," Quan says looking up from the slide he's prepared. "Short of someone physically washing them off and swapping them over, there's no way."

"Right," Newt says staring at the floor with a frown. "Well, this shit makes no sense. We figured both the clone and the original would have silicon in their systems, but it never occurred to us that the clone might be capable of growing organic matter."

"Sometimes..." Quan starts and then cuts himself off abruptly. "Nah, there's nothing in nature that'd explain this. We're on our own, man. Breaking new ground."

"Tell me about it," Newt says and returns to his sample.

The afternoon passes in a similar way to the morning; they sedate and anaesthetise the original pig, perform the excision, and spend the rest of the day comparing the samples, coming no closer to any conclusions.

Newt joins Griggson, Quan and Stella for dinner in the commissary for dinner - an actual hot meal is served, and maybe they're just cutting costs by having a skeleton crew on breakfast - and they spend the night exchanging stories about their time at the Jaeger Academy; Quan went through two years before Griggson and Newt, Stella a year after. He feels out of sorts, but tries to put on a good front, because, really; how is anyone who's not Mendelssohn even going to understand what it's like to have your entire genetic make-up called into question.

It's quarter to ten when he remembers that Hermann and Mendelssohn are going to call and bows out, saying his goodnights and walking toward the door. Griggson jogs after him and stops him in the hall.

"So, uh, about tomorrow," Griggson says once he's sure they won't be overheard. "You should stay in your quarters or hang out in the commissary in the morning. If introducing radiation to the pigs does go pear shaped, you probably shouldn't be here, just in case. I'll send Quan or Stella to come get you when we're done."

"Right. I'll just... go over everything we've got, then. Yeah, okay. Yeah... I'll, uh, see you tomorrow. Good luck." 

Newt turns and heads back to his room and the tablet starts beeping the second he opens the door.

"Sorry, just got in," Newt says as he answers the call and props the tablet up on the nightstand so he can take his boots off. "Had dinner with the K-Sci team."

"Is everything going well?" Hermann asks and when Newt looks up he sees that Hermann and Mendelssohn are sitting pressed close together, leaning against the wall at the end of the bed and he's hit by a pang of homesickness so sudden and swift that he has to take a moment to focus on untying his boots to let it pass.

"I'm, uh, I'm being sidelined," Newt says when he feels like he can talk again, chucking his boots across the room and grabbing the tablet so he can lie back on the bed, propping it up against his knees. "They're x-raying the pigs in the morning and can't risk it fucking me over in the process."

"What happened? Why're they risking that?" Mendelssohn asks, sitting up a little straighter and pushing his glasses up his nose as he stares at Newt, bewildered.

"We excised the tumor today. Everything went smoothly but there were some unexpected results." Newt frowns and picks at his jeans. "So, the pig they assumed was the clone turned out to have an organic tumor and the original pig's tumor was synthetic."

"So, they got the pigs mixed up?" Mendelssohn frowns and Newt shakes his head.

"They're all absolutely certain which pig is the clone. Griggson has a theory about what's going on, but he's not saying what it is until he has confirmation either way," Newt huffs a laugh. "This is what we get for shooting him down all the time."

"To be fair, he's wrong, like, fifty percent of the time," Mendelssohn points out.

"It's the other fifty I'm worried about," Newt says with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm not sure I understand the significance of, well, _most_ of what you're saying, but it seems... How are you holding up?" Hermann asks brow furrowed with a mix of confusion and concern.

"I'm... I'm fine, yeah, it's not- I mean, I'm here. I'm working. We're making progress. I still want to come _home_ , but a few more days here isn't going to kill me," Newt shrugs. "What's going on up there? Anything new on the rat samples?"

"Same and same again," Mendelssohn shrugs. "All we're really getting is confirmation that this is how the substance effects mammalian species. Our results match the Taurax rats, the Taurax rats match the Door's rats, all three match the pigs. Wonder if it works the same on reptiles..."

"Am I going to have to put up with lizards as well?" Hermann says, side-eyeing Mendelssohn suspiciously.

"Maybe? They're way quieter than rats, though, dude," Mendelssohn says and Hermann rolls his eyes. "The crickets won't be, though."

"Crickets?" Hermann asks looking startled.

"Lizards have to eat, too," Mendelssohn shrugs. "But we might want to look into how it reacts to insects. Arachnids as well, maybe. Fish? Maybe we were just collateral damage, and the stuff actually makes some other species multiply in size exponentially. They could have been trying to create an entire army of spider foot soldiers on the ground and-"

"Are you playing with me?" Hermann says, slightly pale as he turns to look at Newt. "Is he playing with me?"

"Mostly? I mean, it's not outside the realm of possibility, but there's absolutely nothing to back it up right now," Newt says and Hermann visibly relaxes a little Mendelssohn opens his mouth to continue and Hermann nudges him in the side.

"So, Griggson and his team will x-ray the pigs and... then what?" Hermann asks, patting Mendelssohn's knee in a facsimile of apology.

"Then he tells me whether or not his theory was right and we go from there. I'm pretty sure whatever it is, he's keeping it from me because it'll just make me freak out and get up in his face about it until the x-rays are done," Newt shrugs and looks at Mendelssohn with a wry smile. "And, yeah, I probably would. Gotta emit, the man did learn _something_ at the academy."

Mendelssohn snorts. "True that."

They drift into silence and suddenly Newt feels awkward and tired and keenly aware that he's the third wheel. He's staring at his boyfriend and his clone and there's nothing more that he wants than to go home and fall asleep curled up against one or both of them. He looks away and fakes a yawn.

"I should probably get going. Griggson had me up at eight. You've probably got things you need to be doing; work... sleep... each other," Newt says and, shit, he sounds bitter; he knows he sounds bitter.

"You didn't tell him," Hermann says narrowing his eyes and glaring at Mendelssohn with pursed lips, clearly annoyed.

"What did you want me to say?" Mendelssohn sputters defensively. "'Hey, Newt, by the way, we're not having sex because if we do you're going to feel left out and bitch forever and I'm pretending to be a decent human being?"

"Oh for..." Hermann huffs and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dude, what the fuck? If I had him _all to myself_ I would be all over that _all the time_ ," Newt says staring at Mendelssohn like he's lost his mind. 

"Don't 'dude' me, dude. The first night after we split, I had a _conversation_ with Hermann while you were _asleep_ and you threw a massive hissyfit. Don't try and tell me you wouldn't pull the exact same shit when you got back," Mendelssohn says, jabbing a finger towards the camera emphatically. "Besides, I'm not _totally_ withholding. Hey, Hermann, how about you tell Newt why we're not fucking."

Hermann glares at Mendelssohn, lips pursed in anger. "I _told_ you I do not want you to play me off against each other."

"I'm not. I'm just letting Newt know that _he's_ not the reason we're not sleeping together. We're _talking_ , just like you asked," Mendelssohn says looking at Hermann smugly.

"This is not talking. This is _arguing_ and I won't be a party to it." Hermann crosses his arms and looks away.

"I have no idea what's going on. Just to make that clear," Newt says staring at the screen a little wide-eyed.

"Hermann won't have sex on camera." Mendelssohn shrugs and Hermann huffs angrily through his nose but says nothing.

"Wait, what? You'd- Really?" Newt says and he can't work out who to focus on and now he's imagining it and _fuck_. "Shit. I get why you wouldn't, but- What if we got a secure line? We should probably be talking on a secure line anyway given the whole... yeah. And, yeah, if you don't wanna you don't wanna, but if you did... that'd be really hot. Just sayin'."

"You would want to watch that?" Hermann says, looking at the screen out of the corner of his eye.

"He's _me_ ," Mendelssohn cuts in and Hermann shakes his head.

"I want to hear it from _him_ ," Hermann says gesturing at the screen and raises an eyebrow.

Newt blinks at the screen and then holds up the tablet. "Dude, look at this room. It's empty. I've got a single bed and I'm pretty much on the other side of the world right now. Watching you two would be the next best thing to _being there_ and I would _really_ rather be anywhere but here right now. But preferably there. With you."

Hermann's lips are still pursed but he sniffs once and looks away. "I'll consider it."

"Holy shit, really?" Newt says and he has to put the tablet down against his knees so he can adjust his glasses. "Dude, you really don't-"

"I said I would _consider_ it. That is _not_ confirmation that it will happen," Hermann says with pursed lips.

"To be honest, I'd be down with watching you guys make out again," Newt says with a shrug. "You, uh, you want to kiss and make up? Mend, you apologize for badgering him to have s-"

"You make it sound like I was trying to bully him into it. I mentioned it _three times_ ; once last night to float the idea, once this morning, and then again before the call to see if he'd changed his mind," Mendelssohn says with a frown. "I just thought it'd be a fun surprise and... and I expressed it badly. Um." Mendelssohn turns to look at Hermann, eyes wide with realisation. "It came across like I was trying to pressure you into it, didn't it?" 

Hermann's lips thin and he nods. "It did." He says tersely.

"Shit, I'm an asshole. But you knew I was an asshole and-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Hermann says and it only becomes noticeable how much he's drawn away from Mendelssohn when he relaxes and leans back against him.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermann says but he still looks pissy.

"Fine-fine or British-fine?" Newt asks and Hermann huffs a bitter laugh through his nose.

"Both." He sighs and turns his head to face Mendelssohn giving him a sad smile. "I keep hoping that we'll get _better_ at communicating, but I'm beginning to think we might be doomed."

"Hey, no. _One_ , it's been, like, three days. If you think things are going to change that quickly you're an idiot. _Two_ , we just got from me stepping way over the line to realizing what I'd done and _apologizing_ in less than ten minutes. Has that ever happened before? Newt, can you remember that ever happening?"

"It would have taken _weeks_ before. And you probably never would have gotten the apology," Newt says with a twist of his lips. "We're making progress."

"I suppose you're right," Hermann concedes and lets his head thunk back against the wall, head rolling to the side to give Mendelssohn a half-smile. "Perhaps we're not doomed."

"That's the spirit,' Mendelssohn says and bumps his shoulder against Hermann's with a grin.

"Is it too soon to ask you to kiss and make up? Or just, y'know, kiss?" Newt asks, tilting his head to the side and giving his best winning smile. 

Hermann gives a soft laugh and shakes his head. "Incorrigible," he says as he turns to the side and tilts Mendelssohn's head up with a crooked finger and then kisses him softly.

Newt sighs and takes a cap and when he gets back he is totally going to take a shitload of random dumb selfies so he has at least a couple of pics of _him_ kissing Hermann. A yawn sneaks up on him and when he opens his eyes Mendelssohn and Hermann are watching him with matching expressions of amusement.

"Are we boring you?" Hermann asks with a smirk.

"No, no... Just tired. Griggson showed up at eight this morning, been going all day." Newt shrugs and yawns again.

"We'll let you go, then," Hermann says, amusement changing to sympathy and Newt finds it weird that he can recognise it on Hermann's face now. "We're calling again tomorrow, no buts."

"No buts here," Newt says with a tired smile.

"Let us know how the x-rays go, yeah?" Mendelssohn says and Newt nods.

"I'll email."

"Sleep well," Hermann says and Newt smiles and mutters _like the dead_ as he disconnects.

He actually takes the time to get ready for bed, changing out of his clothes and brushing his teeth and when he crawls under the covers he takes a few moments to swipe through the caps he took. He pauses on the one of Hermann kissing Mendelssohn, eye cracked open and staring straight at him and smiles, leaving it open so it'll be the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I kind of lied about there being no more gaps in posting. I've just finalised my TIFF schedule and I've got 13-14 hour days for a majority of the festival. It's _very_ unlikely that I'm going to be able to find time to post anything (or sleep, for that matter), so the next chapter will be up on the 16th at the latest.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, no warnings. There'll be a big chapter later in the week, but I'm too ridiculously exhausted right now to do the edits on that.

Mendelssohn wakes on his stomach to the feeling of fingers tracing lines across his back. He makes a questioning noise and then there are lips lightly kissing his shoulder blade.

"There are freckles... all across your back... in the spaces between the colour," Hermann murmurs and the tracing resumes.

"M'yeah," Mendelssohn says as he stretches. "Gonna get 'em covered up soon. Already working on the design for Taurax."

"I think I'll miss them," Hermann says and he's stretching down to kiss where his fingers have traced.

"They're just melanin clusters and they've faded a lot; you should see me when I've been in the sun too much - it looks like someone flicked mayonnaise at a brick." 

Hermann chuckles and kisses Mendelssohn's shoulder again. "You're more attractive than a brick."

Mendelssohn snorts and buries his face in the pillow. "There's that patented Gottlieb Flirtation Technique again. You want to compare me to some other inanimate objects?" He squirms away with a laugh as Hermann blows a raspberry on his back, rolling over to grab his glasses so he can actually see.

"Fine, so we both lack tact when it comes to giving compliments," Hermann says shuffling across the bed to settle back beside Mendelssohn placing his hand on his chest and resting his chin on it to look up at him. "It's true, though. You are more attractive than a brick, Newto- Mendelssohn. Sorry, I- _Mendelssohn_."

Mendelssohn's breath catches and for a few seconds he can't speak. "You can-" He coughs to clear his throat before starting again. "You can call me Newt. I don't mind."

"I need to keep it straight; I wouldn't want confuse people."

"Right. Sure. Yeah," he says, looking away. "Wouldn't want them to think they weren't talking to the copy."

"The issue is logistical, not value based," Hermann says and Mendelssohn nods slowly, lips turned down at the sides and avoiding Hermann's eyes. "Oh, come here." Hermann touches his cheek gently until he sighs and looks back. "I know who you are, Newton. I could never forget." He stretches up and kisses Mendelssohn softly and when he draws back, Mendelssohn's throat is tight.

"It didn't really kick in," he says taking a deep breath and letting out a shuddering sigh. "How much it- until you said my name."

"I can't even begin to imagine what that's like," Hermann says stroking his cheek. "It seems such a small thing - a name - but watching it being given to someone else..."

"I have to... I've got to be Mendelssohn now. For the rest of my life," he says and he tries to say it with conviction but... "Katz could have chosen a different number. Pentecost could have flipped a coin. Anything could have been different and I'd still be me. Now... now I have to be someone else."

"You're still you," Hermann says and Mendelssohn opens his mouth to argue, but Hermann cuts him off. "We wouldn't be here if you weren't both of you, _you_." 

"If it walks like a duck..." Mendelssohn concedes with a sad smile.

"I can assure you," Hermann says leaning in close. "You are _also_ more attractive than a duck."

Mendelssohn laughs in spite of himself and reaches up to pull Hermann down and kiss him stupid. He loses track of how long they spend lying together, kissing and touching, but there's a small stab of guilt in the back of his brain that reminds him what's missing and when Hermann's hand dips below the waistband of his boxers, he halts it in place.

"C'mon, man, you're making this really hard - Really? And you say _I've_ got a childish sense of humor." Mendelssohn says as Hermann snickers and looks away. "Look, I just know that if it was me in Sydney - and it kind of is - I wouldn't want to feel left out. Maybe my logic's incredibly flawed, but... if we don't do this it's... it's better. For all of us. In the long run."

Hermann's head drops to Mendelssohn's chest and his hand slips out of Mendelssohn's pants to rest on his stomach. "Your logic isn't flawed," Hermann says with a sigh, looking up at him with his mouth turned down on one side. "I understand the need for it - this situation is by no means normal - but by the same token... Twice. That was all we got and you're here beside me now and - I'd like this noted for the record - I _very much_ want to have sex with you again.

"You have no idea how mutual it is, man, _fuck_ ," Mendelssohn says, running his hand over Hermann's back. "We're adults. We can do this."

"We can," Hermann agrees glumly. "I just... Another day... Another _week_. I have to say; I'm more than a little annoyed at the Marshall now. If he'd-"

"Woah. Hermann Gottlieb annoyed at Marshall Pentecost? That's huge, dude. I mean, everyone knows about your crush on him," Mendelssohn says with a smirk, snickering when Hermann thwaps him on the shoulder.

"I do _not_ have a crush on the Marshall," Hermann says indignantly which just makes Mendelssohn laugh harder, raising an eyebrow at him cheekily.

"What is it? A little military kink? You like a man in uniform?" Mendelssohn says and his eyes widen as Hermann's breath hitches, mouth shutting with an audible click. "Holy shit, really?" Mendelssohn stares at Hermann for a moment and then throws his arms up above his head. "Cold showers for everyone!" He cries and Hermann snorts and relaxes against him.

"It's not..." Hermann says, looking away seeming to search for the right words.

"I don't really blame you. The man's hot," Mendelssohn says with a shrug. "Would you... uh, would you leave us for him? I mean, sure, you've got two short, colorful cryptozoologists with bad communication skills and, hey, who doesn't want that? But if... if that were an option?"

"You forgot one thing in your description of yourselves," Hermann says softly, reaching up to brush his fingers through Mendelssohn's hair. "You're also _an idiot_." He rolls his eyes and leans down to drop a kiss on Mendelssohn's lips. "Of all the things to feel insecure about... My eyes may wander, my hands do _not_." He shakes his head and looks at Mendelssohn consideringly. "You weren't exactly wrong when you asked if I like your tattoos. Always did fancy a bit of rough." Hermann smirks as he leans in to kiss Mendelssohn, long and slow, before pulling back with a disgruntled noise and pushing himself away. "If you'll excuse me, I have a _cold shower_ to endure."

Mendelssohn laughs and drops his chin, feeling slightly abashed. He watches as Hermann gets dressed and comes to the side of the bed, raising an eyebrow until Mendelssohn sits up far enough that Hermann can lean down and kiss him.

"I'll see you in the lab," he says as he straightens and heads for the door.

"Hey, Hermann?" Mendelssohn says as Hermann turns the handle. "Could you do me a favor? Send Newt an email today? It's just... it'll help." 

"About what?" Hermann asks, perplexed.

"Whatever you want," Mendelssohn shrugs. 

Hermann looks at him suspiciously out of the side of his eye and nods in a manner that suggests he's probably not going to do it and then slips out the door.

Mendelssohn lets himself drop back to the bed with a sigh, giving himself five minutes before he gets up, showers, shaves and dresses. By the time he gets to the lab, he's in a slightly better mood and he goes through to check on and feeds the test rats before heading into the alcove. Walking up to the rat run he taps lightly on one of the cages, making kiss noises as he looks for Tesla. He checks each of the little rooms they set up, making sure they're all latched and secure and goes as far as to root through the torn up lining in the little sleeping chamber. 

"We named you Tesla, not Houdini. Where the hell are you?" He mutters as he checks everything again and starts to swear. "Fucking fucky shitting fuck. Where the fuck have you gone?"

"Everything alright?" Hermann asks as he makes his way around Newt's stuff to come and stand beside him. "This is much more impressive than I expected hearing you put it together."

"It'd be even more impressive if it had a fucking rat in it," Mendelssohn says running his hands through his hair despairingly. "Newt's going to kill me. Newt's going to fucking kill me."

"Calm down, Newton. Have you checked the latches? Are you sure the rat got out?" Hermann says as he comes to stand beside Mendelssohn and rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course I checked the latches," Mendelssohn spits and starts checking the pipes connecting the spaces. "They were all fucking closed. Unless Tesla was the kind of rat to shut everything after he made a fucking breakout-"

"Newton," Hermann interrupts and raises his cane to point at one of the connecting pipes near the top of the run. Mendelssohn looks up and sees a little rat face poking out of one of the tubes and then he's climbing on top of a chair to open up the cage, putting his hand in and waiting until Tesla comes out of the pipe and climbs into his hand.

"Maybe we _should_ have called you Dickbag, you little shit," Mendelssohn says holding Tesla up to his face and stroking him with his nose. "We are getting _clear_ pipes as soon as fucking possible."

"I assume everything's okay now?" Hermann says watching as Mendelssohn sets the rat on his shoulder.

"Yeah, crisis averted. Thanks. Y'know, for-"

"Pointing at an opportune time?" Hermann says with a smirk as he turns to go back to his side of the room.

Mendelssohn shakes his head and grabs a tablet, sitting down to go through his email; scrolling with one hand, herding Tesla with the other. There's nothing from Newt, but he wasn't expecting anything this soon. He opens up a new message and starts typing.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Important Information
> 
> Not leaving you out, dude.
> 
> Things you should be aware of:  
>  1\. Hermann thinks we're more attractive than both bricks _and_ ducks. (1st in response to conversation about freckles (he likes them -_-), second in response to phrase 'if it walks like a duck'.) He is officially weirder than we are.  
>  2\. He totally laughed at a dick joke. He's one of us. \o/  
>  3\. He referred to us as 'a bit of rough'. Tattoos = Boner central.  
>  4\. I have not had sex in two days. Hermann has also not had sex in two days. He is much more vocal about this than expected.  
>  5\. Tesla's new trick is to hide in one of the PVC tubes and pretend he's broken out. I swear, I nearly tore the lab apart looking for him and then he just poked his head out and was all 'hey, did I scare ya?' Our pet rat is officially an asshole.
> 
> Anything new on Griggson's stuff?
> 
> M.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

Hitting send, he tosses the tablet to the side and strokes Tesla who's getting restless and snippy from being confined to the general area of Mendelssohn's chest and shoulders. He picks Tesla up and puts him back in his cage, watching with amusement as the rat darts up through the tunnels and cages to sit at the highest point and look out across the room.

Mendelssohn heads out of the alcove and sidles up behind Hermann - it is _so_ much easier to be stealthy in sneakers - wrapping his arms around Hermann's middle and smirking as Hermann startles. "You didn't send the email," he says and Hermann's posture slumps. He rests his hand on top of Mendelssohn's clasped over his stomach and keeps writing on the board.

"No. I've been busy," Hermann says and shuffles to the left to start a new line.

"C'mon, dude. Just send him _something_. You've got insider information here, _act on it_ ," Mendelssohn says and buries his face between Hermann's shoulder blades.

"I wouldn't know what to say," Hermann says and the tap-tap-scree slows as he thinks. "We've never been the types to exchange _personal_ emails before."

"Yeah, well, we've never been the types to give each other rim jobs before, but that was totally a thing that happened. To _you_. Slip him some e-tongue in his mail hole."

"Could you have possibly phrased that in a more disgusting manner?" Hermann asks, looking over his shoulder, lips pursed in a moue of distaste.

"You want me to try?" Mendelssohn asks with a grin.

" _No_ ," Hermann says firmly and emphatically. "I don't see why this is so important. We'll speak to him tonight, isn't that enough?"

"Come on, dude. It's not like I'm asking you to, I dunno, send him a twelve page epic poem about how just _one_ of his dicks isn't enough to satisfy your insatiable sex drive. Just... tell him the rats are making too much noise. Or that _I'm_ driving you crazy. Hell, make it like the old days and start an argument with him about how our theories are wrong, _wrong wrong wrong oh my god so wrong_ ," 

"If we were at breakfast I'd be dumping porridge on your bacon right now. Your accent is _appalling_ ," Hermann says, twisting around in Mendelssohn's arms until he's facing Mendelssohn and getting chalk dust all over his shoulders.

"Good thing we're not then. You're a menace to breakfast foods everywhere," Mendelssohn smirks and kisses Hermann quickly before stepping away and walking back to his side of the room to set things up for the tests he plans to run after they get back from the commissary. "Send the email."

"I _still_ do not see why-"

"Dude, you're dating him. I _know_ him. You know how I know him? I _am_ him. Send him a damn email." Mendelssohn turns around, putting his hands on his hips and staring Hermann down.

"Why is this so important to you?" Hermann asks looking as confused and frustrated as Mendelssohn feels and he'd hoped that Hermann would just do it without making a big thing of it but now he actually has to explain and he feels like a dope.

"Because... because if you're sending him an email at random then it means you're thinking about him; you haven't _forgotten_ him. The calls are good but... they're scheduled. We do it at the same time every night and they're not... That could be the only time you think about him all day. For all he knows you've written it down in your planner and wouldn't remember otherwise. It's not-" Mendelssohn huffs and looks away, annoyed at his inability to articulate. "It's something he's not going to notice unless you _don't_ do it."

"Oh," Hermann says solemnly, looking at the floor as he nods slowly. "I'll... I will send him something."

"Okay... Okay, cool..." Mendelssohn turns and starts work, pausing halfway through to call back to Hermann. "You, uh, you going to be ready for breakfast soon? I'm nearly done here."

"I'm ready whenever you are," Hermann says, standing from his computer and letting his glasses fall to hang by his chest.

Mendelssohn quickly finishes up and follows Hermann out to the commissary, trying to let go of the tension and agitation that had suddenly sprung up.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No major warnings I can think of.

It's nearly lunch and Newt's sitting in the commissary, feet up on a chair as he absently scrolls through yesterday's results and watches the door out of the corner of his eye. His foot starts jiggling and he can't bring himself to stop it because, really, how long does it take to x-ray two pigs? He sighs and checks his email. Amongst the forwards and publication notifications are messages from Mendelssohn and Hermann. He snickers to himself as he reads Mendelssohn's, ignoring the pang of homesickness that settles in his chest, and then moves on to Hermann's.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** gottlieb.h@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Rat
> 
> Your pet rat went missing for five minutes and Mendelssohn almost fainted from anxiety. Have you always been so high strung?
> 
> Dr. Hermann Gottlieb  
>  B.Sci (TU.Berlin), MASc. (TU.Berlin), PhD. (TU.Berlin)  
>  _Head of Physics_  
>  _Head of Programming_  
>  _K-Science_ / _J-Tech_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

He smirks and types up a quick reply, hitting send as Griggson enters the commissary holding a large, white envelope.

>   
> **To:** gottlieb.h@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Re: Rat
> 
> You implying that losing a pet isn't something to get freaked out about?
> 
> N.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

"What's up?" Newt asks as Griggson sits and silently pushes the envelope across the table. Newt frowns and picks up the envelope, sliding the x-rays out and holding them up to the light; each one shows the body of one of the pigs, mostly normal except for large empty spaces in the film where organs should be. "Dude, how did you fuck up taking an x-ray this badly?" He says with a snort, tossing them back on top of the envelope and looking at Griggson, who's not meeting his eye.

"We didn't. Hold them up together." Griggson sighs as Newt pauses and leans forward, lining up the negatives and holding them back up to the light. His breath catches and his stomach lurches and he has to drop his hand and look away, swallowing to get himself under control before steeling himself to look again.

Laid over top of each other, the x-rays show a different picture; the gaps in one are filled by the other, places where organs appear missing are no longer -together they make up a jigsaw, each filling in the blanks in the other.

"It took us three hours to get films without motion blur; pigs wouldn't stay still. As far as we can tell, the cloned parts just aren't showing up that well, they're plastic after all," Griggson shrugs and sighs. "It'd seem... Uh, I was right. The theory I had yesterday; the pigs aren't _true_ clones. The fact that they - and you - are exactly the same and not born and developed with the same genetic matter would also- Uh. You weren't _birthed_. You didn't develop as a whole and then crawl out fully formed. You... Both you and the other one have a similar amount of organic and inorganic make-up; the parts of you were grown and then put together, like... like a 3D printer. You were still coming together as you pulled yourself out, or he did, or... It's the only explanation for why there wasn't a significant change in size and how we've had such a hard time pinning down which one of you is the clone. You're... you're both part clone."

Newt doesn't respond, just stares at the x-rays as he puts them down on the table and takes out his phone, trying not to shake as he takes pictures of both individually and then together. Griggson's still talking but Newt's not listening, trying to focus on attaching the photos to an email and sending it off.

>   
> **To:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** (No subject)
> 
> Call me
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_
> 
> _Attachment 1: Picture.png_  
>  _Attachment 2: Picture 2.png_  
>  _Attachment 3: Picture 3.png_  
> 

"I've gotta go," Newt says and he's pretty sure he's just interrupted Griggson but he doesn't care and normally he'd be all over working on something to distract himself but right now he has to go to his room and sit and wait for Mendelssohn to call him. He walks out of the commissary and back to his quarters on autopilot, trying to avoid bumping into people but failing two out of every three times.

He sits heavily on his bed and stares at his hands when he finally gets into his room and, even though he's expecting it, he's still startled when his tablet trills. 

"How did he fuck up taking an x-ray so badly?" Mendelssohn says looking at his phone as the call connects.

"They didn't," Newt snorts and suddenly he's taken over Griggson's role. "The pigs aren't true clones; they're half and half. _We_ are half and half. I was kind of distracted while he was explaining it but he wasn't doing a very good job anyway. The report will probably say it better, but yeah. Some of me is organic and some of you is organic and a whole lot of both of us is silicone."

"What the fuck, man?" Mendelssohn says with a frown and Newt puts the tablet down on the desk, angling it so he can stand and pace as he explains.

"Like I said, I was _distracted_ , but... The clone didn't _grow_ and spring forth fully formed - we already surmised that it happened in one fast burst but this... this points to one of us being... compiled? That might not be the right word but, fuck it, whatever. One of us was spat out like- like from a printer and they took pieces of the original with them - to make room or- you know what? I don't have a clue why. We know jack and shit about this. All we know is that _both_ and _neither_ of us is the clone." Newt yanks out the chair from the desk and sits down with a huff.

"I... I have no idea what to do with this information," Mendelssohn says slowly and when he looks up he can see Hermann over Mendelssohn's shoulder.

"Is... is everything okay? I couldn't help but overhear..." Hermann says looking between Mendelssohn and Newt in concern.

"Yes." | "No."  
---|---  
  
Mendelssohn closes his eyes and takes a breath before turning to Hermann. "Could you- Would you give us a minute? We need to- Nevermind. I'll take this in my room." Mendelssohn picks up the tablet and then Newt's watching the corridor fly past and Mendelssohn's hip until he's opening their door and setting him down on the table. "So... Neither of us is the clone."

"And yet... both of us is the clone." Newt says and he's kind of pissed but he couldn't for the life of him say what he's pissed about or where the anger came from.

"No. No, I think this is better. If one of us was fully synthetic we'd _always_ be under suspicion. But if we're just _part_ -"

"Dude, you think it matters that one of us has a real liver? They're only going to care about who has the brain. Unless, oh, you think the gallbladder's more important or- I mean, really, where does the 'soul' reside? The brain? The heart? So if I've got the brain and you've got the heart, we're all good, hey? Who fucking gives a shit? You were there, you remember: we never took philosophy, we took fucking _naptime_. As far as anybody else is going to care, one of us is _definitively_ a clone."

"Yeah, but _we'll_ know. We're the same person-"

"No we're _not!_ " Newt slams his hand down on the table and the tablet falls over. He scrubs a hand over his face and stands, walking away and slamming his palm against the bathroom doorframe a few times before walking back and righting the tablet.

"You never once considered that you might be the clone, did you?" Mendelssohn says and there's a resigned understanding in his tone. "You assumed it was me the entire time and now that there's proof that there's part of you that isn't... isn't _you,_ you're losing your shit." 

Newt can't speak, has no idea what to even say right now. 

Mendelssohn snorts and looks away. "Welcome to my fucking world, man," he says and then the screen flashes, _Call Disconnected_ popping up in the middle.

Newt spends the next hour staring at the x-rays and trying to reconcile himself to the fact that Mendelssohn's right. He was _so_ fucking sure he was the original. The few times the idea of him being the clone had popped up in his mind it seemed too surreal to even entertain and he'd dismissed it out of hand. Now when he looks down at himself he's wondering which parts might not be his own: his lungs? Heart? Teeth? 

He powers down the tablet and grabs the x-rays, shoving them back in the envelope and heading down to the labs. He nods at Quan and Stella, both staring at him like he might fly apart at the seams any second now - they might not actually be that far from the truth - and knocks on Griggson's door.

He's called in after a moment and Griggson looks up from his computer and gestures at the seat across from him.

"You doing okay?" Griggson asks as he finishes up typing and turns to give him his full attention.

Newt opens and closes his mouth a few times before shrugging and settling on "No."

"Can't imagine what you're going through right now, but if you need anything..." Griggson trails off and starts sifting through the piles of paper on his desk. "I've got the contact details for the base head shrinker around here somewhere-"

"Don't bother, man. I'm good, I just..." Newt makes a noise of discontent and waves his hand around his head. "Is there any real reason for me to be here now? I mean, the tumors are gone; we've made a _shitload_ of headway. Other than monitoring the pigs is there anything specific that has to be done _here_? I can take tumor samples back to Hong Kong and get you mass-spec results within a day or two rather than you waiting for however long it takes down here. I can run tests just as well back there as I can here and- Maybe I'm being a giant baby about this but... but I just want to go home."

Griggson sucks in his lips and nods slowly, picking up a few pieces of paper and looking them over before squinting at his screen and scrolling through the document he has open. "Yeah... yeah. We can probably work something out," Griggson says as he looks back over at Newt. "Would have been good to have you around for a while longer, catch up. But, yeah, we got a bit more than we bargained for here. I'll make a few calls, see when we can get you back."

"Thanks. Thanks, man. I appreciate it," Newt says and pushes out a breath, drumming his hands on the armrests. "If this happened to you, like, you were suddenly face to face with an _exact_ copy of you who knew everything you did and could do everything you could do but you had no idea which of you was the clone, would you even consider the fact that you could be the clone?"

"I might do," Griggson says scratching his beard. "I mean, if it's not really _certain_ , then I'd have to think about it."

"What's your middle name?" Newt says, trying a different tactic.

"Jeremy, why?" Griggson says with a frown, clearly confused at the sudden change in direction the conversation's taken.

"Okay, so, say someone came along and to differentiate the two of you: you're Jai, the other version is Jeremy. Do you still think there's a possibility that you're the clone?" Newt says and he knew, he'd been _told_ ; he'd seen how people treated Mendelssohn differently and he still hadn't fucking _gotten_ it.

"That's a toughie, can't really say for sure... I mean, I'd wanna think I'd consider it, but it sounds like a more long term problem and you'd have to ask one of the behavioural psychologists about it... but we don't have any of them any more. Not sure if we had any to begin with..." Griggson frowns and looks away for a moment. "You speak to Mendelssohn?"

"Yeah, we... it was kind of a big... thing." Newt says with a shrug, looking away as he changes the topic. "So, what's the deal with the pig now?"

"Well, we're going to monitor them closely for the next few weeks; hopefully this shit won't mutate with all that radiation in 'em. I'd say we'll know within two weeks whether or not it's safe for you and Mendelssohn."

"Two weeks..." Newt says with a sigh. "Guess it'll be two weeks before we find out who got the brain."

"We could always do a brain biopsy," Griggson says with a shrug, looking at Newt's head consideringly.

"Uh, _no_. Nobody's taking a chunk of my brain for any reason other than a life or death situation. This is... we've been fine so far. We can deal with another two weeks."

"Eh, it's your brain."

"Damn right it's my brain," Newt says and brushes his hands off on his knees, pushing himself up to stand. "Let me know what's up with the travel plans. I'm gonna... go see what that tumor can tell me."

Newt walks out into the main lab to see Quan and Stella talking in the corner, immediately stopping and looking away the second he walks out. He sighs and sets himself up in one of the corners, grabbing his notes from the previous day so he can work out where he was up to. Quan and Stella start talking again, low tones, just on the edge of hearing, and Newt mentally kicks himself for being the world's least empathetic person; which, he kind of already knew, but this is just a kick in the pants.

He works until Griggson comes out of his office and strides over to Newt. 

"Got everything sorted with Marshall Doumani. Could only get you on an early morning flight, leaves at four. Only choppers scheduled to go to the airport leave at eleven and six. Or we can get you on a flight at six tomorrow night. Which one you want?"" Griggson says leaning against the bench and looking at Newt sympathetically.

"I don't want you to think I don't want to hang out with you, but..."

"Yeah, you've been off since you got here. Didn't want to say anything but it feels like you left some shit hanging in Hong Kong?" Griggson says with a raised eyebrow.

"It's complicated. And this shit hasn't made it any better," Newt says tiredly. "I'll take the four."

"I'll get it sorted. We've got a standing reservation at the Rydges, I can see if anyone's in it so you can get some shut eye before your flight?" Griggson says in a questioning tone and Newt nods.

"Yeah, yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, man," Newt says and looks at the clock; it's only six.

"Not a problem. So, I was hoping to get a chance to take you out drinking like the old days, but I've got a bottle of Cab Sav in my room I can break out over dinner. What d'ya reckon?"

Newt laughs and starts packing up. "Yeah, sounds good. No chance the two of us'll get drunk enough to start shit on a single bottle. Let me stack up and send an email. Meet you in the commissary," Newt says and turns back to finish up. "Oh, hey - did you get clearance for me to take some samples back?"

"Shit, yeah, forgot to say. Nearly sent you off without them. Just got to sort them out for transport and seal them up; no opening it until you're back in the Shatterdome. Got the forms and stuff in my office, be right back. Hey, Quan, you wanna grab an esky? Newt's taking samples back to Hong Kong."

"You leaving us already, mate?" Quan says as he walks over and opens up a low cupboard, pulling out a styrofoam container and lining it with dry ice.

"Yeah, I got shit to do back home," Newt says with a shrug and pulls the tumours out of the fridge to cut off some samples. Laying the first one down in the container he looks at Quan out of the corner of his eye. "You mind labeling these for me? My handwriting's shit when it's that small." 

"Sure, man. This the clone tumour or...?" Quan asks and Newt relaxes slightly.

"It's the clone, yeah," Newt says and does the second one, stripping off his gloves to place the sample carefully in the box and waiting for Quan to finish up before doing the same with the second. As he sets the lid on top, Quan pulls a roll of official looking tape out of a draw and wraps it around to seal it. 

Griggson returns with a small stack of papers and sets them down in front of Newt. "More paper work; triplicate this time. You've done this shit before, you know where to sign." 

Newt leans down and scrawls his name out quickly in the places he needs to, and it's annoying but familiar; the number of times he's had to sign these forms to get kaiju specimens out of countries is almost ridiculous. Griggson sticks two of the forms in a plastic sheath and sticks them to the container with tape and picks up the remaining one for himself.

"So, we're all good now, yeah?" Newt says as he shoves the box in the fridge, setting a reminder on his phone that he has to come get it before he leaves. "I gotta go pack and stuff, but I'll meet you in the commissary in about half an hour?"

"Sounds good, mate," Griggson says patting him on the back as he turns and heads back to his office. "Me and the wine'll be waiting."

Newt grabs the few things he's brought with him and heads back to his room, rolling and shoving everything into his duffel before grabbing his tablet and opening a new email. He stares at the blank draft for five minutes before picking out a short message and hitting send.

>   
> **To:** gottlieb.h@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **CC:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **From:** geiszler.n@ksci.shatterdome.hk  
>  **Subject:** Im comming home
> 
> Flying home tonidt
> 
> Won't hair wifi. Won't bw Abel to answer I'd you call.
> 
> Newton Geiszler  
>  _Cryptozoologist_  
>  _Head of Biological Research_  
>  _K-Science_  
>  _Hong Kong Shatterdome_  
> 

He powers down the tablet and shoves it and his laptop in his satchel, setting it on top of the duffel by the door. He does one last sweep of the room to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything and heads out to the commissary where Griggson, Quan and Stella are waiting with a bottle of wine breathing on the table.

It's been a long time since he's had the time or inclination to imbibe - too much to do and not enough time to waste on the inevitable hangover - so after a glass and a half he's more drunk than he's anticipated. He's laughing and trying to focus on the conversation - Stella and Quan are giddy and giggling about having the same tactics instructor whose teaching methods were unorthodox to say the least - but there's a dead spot in his chest that makes his good spirit feel forced and his mood begin to tank. By the time he bows out at ten-thirty, he's well on his way to maudlin.

Griggson wraps him up in a hug, giving him a good-natured thump on the back. "Don't be a stranger, hey?" He says and Newt promises that he'll remember to email.

He waves at Stella and Quan and then he's wobbling back to his room and picking up his luggage and his phone trills to remind him to grab the samples from the lab. He collects the cold box from the dark lab and peers into the room with the pigpens, leaning against the doorframe and staring at them sadly. "Don't go mutating, Sugar," he mutters and adjusts his duffel on his shoulder before heading up to the helipad.

It's twenty past eleven when he touches down at Sydney airport and is driven to the airport hotel. He has the presence of mind to arrange a wake-up call, then he shoves the cold box in the bar fridge, dumps his glasses on the bedside table and curls up in the middle of the bed, keenly aware of how big and empty it is.

The phone rings shrilly in the room, jerking him out of a deep sleep and he has just enough time to rinse and spit with the complimentary mouthwash, yank the cold box out of the fridge and haul ass down to catch the shuttle to the airport. He's never been more grateful for the fact that he always gets fast tracked through customs than now; the officers just check his PPDC ID and passport, read over the paper work on the cold box and usher him through. He sleeps more on the plane, and wakes with his mouth open and dry and a pain in his sinus and ears that won't go away no matter how many times he swallows.

The landing coincides with a helicopter leaving for the Shatterdome and he finds himself standing outside the door to his room within an hour. He dumps his bag inside and then he's standing in the hall staring down at the lab apprehensively. Looking down at the box in his hand, he drums his fingers on the styrofoam and turns on his heel, heading up to medical to spend the rest of the day running the tumour samples through the mass spectrometer.

He checks his phone at seven, stomach rumbling and painful with the knowledge that the last time he had anything to eat was in another hemisphere. There's no response from either Hermann or Mendelssohn and he skulks around in Medical until eight when he's fairly sure he can slip into the commissary without attracting attention.

He figures he can spend the night in the lab, holed up on the couch, but when he walks past at nine, the light's still on. He sighs and heads back to his room to sit and prepare himself for the inevitable screaming argument that's going to happen the next time he sees Mendelssohn.

"Newton?" Hermann's standing down the hall, hand poised to open his own door and then he's hurrying toward him and urging him to open the door to his own room. "Where have you been? We heard you were coming and then... _nothing_." Hermann pushes him through the door and closes it behind him and then he's pulling Newt into a hug, kissing the side of his head.

"Had my phone on all day," Newt shrugs, resting his forehead on Hermann's shoulder and hugging him back. "You could've called... emailed."

"Ah," Hermann says and he hugs Newt tighter. "That's... that is a fair point. We were... we were expecting you to come by the lab when you got in."

"Had some tests to run on the tumor; thought I'd get it done ASAP. Justify coming home so soon." Newt shrugs. "Where's... Um. Where's Mend?"

"Still in the lab. He said that since he got to have me to himself while you were gone, it was only fair that you got to have that, too," Hermann says with a roll of his eyes. "I tried to talk him out of it, but... well, you know what you're like."

Newt nods consideringly and raises his head, looking up at Hermann. "I'm greedy," he says, sliding a hand up Hermann's neck to pull him down into a kiss. "And selfish." Newt starts undoing Hermann's buttons and feels him snort against the side of his head.

"Yes, you're greedy and selfish. That's why one of you took himself off to sleep in the lab tonight," Hermann says, hands settling on Newt's hips as he sighs.

"Wait, hold up." Newt pulls back and stares at Hermann. "He's _staying_ there? What? Why? Is he still- He's still- Did he tell you?"

"Tell me what?" 

"We... we kind of... had a fight," Newt says and as he expected Hermann's pulling away and looking down at him critically.

"What did you fight about?" Hermann asks and Newt sighs.

"The test results." He pulls away and sits heavily on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands as he stares at the floor.

"Yes, he told me... Neither of you are the clone-"

" _Both of us_ are the clone," Newt cuts him off with a frustrated noise. "That's the fucking problem. He always saw it and... and I never did. He _told_ me what it was like and I... I supported him... because- because I thought I was supporting the clone."

"It never occurred to you that-"

"Not-... not really?" Newt turns his head and looks up at Hermann over his shoulder. "I mean, I thought about it once or twice but... it never really felt _real_. Nothing changed; I was still me. I _am_ still me _._ But now I'm not... I'm not _all_ me and I- What does that mean? Does this- Am I _less_ than what I was? Are people going to look at me different? Does it give my _work_ less value? I'm just- The thing we're fighting isn't- It's not just _on_ me like the tattoos, it's- it's _in_ me now. It's- I've had less than a day to get my head around this, but it's been what he's been dealing with the entire time and, and I just- I'm the world's most oblivious asshole."

"I had this conversation with Mendelssohn the night it happened," Hermann says sitting on the bed beside Newt, shoulder pressed close. "Perhaps I should have made the time to have it with you, but... Well, it's in the past now." Hermann looks over at Newt apologetically and sighs. "Have you ever thought about alternate universes?"

"Like, where people have superpowers or it rains donuts?" Newt asks with a frown and Hermann smiles distantly.

"Similar. There are a multitude of universes, some close to our own, some wildly dissimilar. We make choices every day that create these universes. You go to lunch, or you don't go to lunch. You run a test, or you don't run a test. Even _when_ can have an effect; you start a test five minutes earlier than you planned and everything goes fine, five minutes later and you rush and spill something. Something as large as a bomb exploding or not will change things, but even things as small as the movement of an atom can cause an effect."

"That's- How would something so unimportant matter?" Newt asks confused.

"Who are we to say what's important to the universe?" Hermann replies gently. "In each universe, there is a version of you who has made different choices. In _this_ universe, we can see the effects of those choices. You and Mendelssohn had separate paths in the same universe; yours was paved and smooth, up to a point, Mendelssohn's rocky and poorly defined. This change in your status is drawing your paths closer together again and you're seeing that his has not been as clear cut as you thought."

"It's not because I'm an oblivious asshole?" Newt says lips twisting down at the side.

"No, that's also a factor," Hermann says wrapping an arm around Newt and pulling him to lean against him. "Your paths are different. Your experiences have changed you. But at your core? Both you and he are the same. You understand each other on a fundamental level. You can get through this."

Newt groans and lets his head thump down on Hermann's shoulder, raising and dropping it a few times in frustration. "I'll go get him," he says when it's mostly out of his system. He looks up at Hermann and then shakes his head. "In a minute. I'll- I'll get him in a minute." He leans up and kisses Hermann as he tugs Hermann's shirt out of his trousers and slides his hand up Hermann's side and it's not even been a week but he feels touch-starved and deprived and he only feels a little bad for taking the time to kiss Hermann stupid. "Missed you."

"I missed you also," Hermann says into Newt's lips, cupping his cheek and pulling away regretfully. "But I'm afraid it's my turn to be withholding. I can't play favourites, that way lies madness and yet _more_ celibacy." Hermann sighs and pat's Newt's cheek before pulling away. "Go make-up with our wayward third. I'll stretch while I wait."

Newt sighs and slumps as Hermann lets go and leans forward to start undoing his shoes. "Fine, fine, yeah. I guess I- Yeah, I'll go and-" Newt pushes himself to his feet and heads toward the door, turning before he opens it. "Hey, Hermann?" He says and Hermann looks up questioningly. "Thanks. For... you know."

Hermann smiles and shakes his head. "Go. The sooner the two of you kiss and make up, the sooner we can _all_ kiss and make _out_."

"Don't say that again," Newt says, looking at Hermann wide-eyed. "It doesn't- It's just _weird_ coming out of your mouth. Like your lips were never meant to say something that juvenile."

Hermann rolls his eyes and toes his shoes off before standing and walking over to look down at Newt condescendingly. "I apologise most profusely if my vulgar language has offended your delicate ears. Now, if you wouldn't mind, please go and sort things out with your twin as I would very much like to get _fucked_."

Newt closes his eyes, head tilting to the side as he tries to resist shaking his head and his lips turn up in an uncontrollable smile. "Can I skip the first part and go straight to the second?"

" _No_." Hermann pulls open the door and pushes at Newt's shoulder until he leaves with a laugh and finds himself standing in the hall as Hermann closes the door with a peevish finality.

Newt shakes his head and shoves his hand in his pockets, turning to head toward the lab. As he gets closer, the good will peters out and apprehension settles over his shoulders, tightening his chest. He's pretty sure the amount of time he spends standing at the door is unreasonable, but all he can think of is the disappointment on Mendelssohn's face just before he disconnected their last call and... he really doesn't want to face that again.

He resists the urge to knock his head against the door a few times, instead taking a deep breath and pushing it open. The lab is dark, lit only by the eerie blue glow of the refrigerators and the warm yellow emanating from his alcove. He walks over and sees Mendelssohn slouched on the couch with a tablet propped up in front of him. Tesla's sitting on his chest and as he watches, Tesla rises up, planting his forepaws on Mendelssohn's chin to sniff at his nose and Mendelssohn absently gives him a little kiss, smirking as the rat startles. 

Something in his chest twinges and he has to act or risk dwelling.

"Hey," Newt says stepping into the light and when Mendelssohn jumps he feels a touch guilty that he didn't call out first.

"What? What is it? Is Hermann okay?" Mendelssohn says struggling to sit up and grab hold of Tesla and the tablet at the same time.

"Hermann's fine," Newt says as he crosses his arms and leans against the wall, staring at Mendelssohn quietly.

"Then... why're you here?" Mendelssohn pushes his glasses up his nose and stares at Newt in confusion. 

"This is dumb," Newt says walking over to the couch and flopping down beside him. "We're dumb. _You're_ dumb."

"That's... What the fuck are you trying to pull?" Mendelssohn says and the glare that accompanies it would feel a lot more cutting if he weren't holding a wiggling rat.

"Nothing new. I'm an asshole. An oblivious asshole. We've always known that," Newt says and sighs. "Hermann told me... About the conversation you guys had that first night."

"I wasn't trying to keep it from you. I just-" Mendelssohn says with a huff and Newt waves his hand.

"I'm not angry. Might've made me think about things differently but... I'm not angry." Newt shrugs and leans back against the couch, letting his head roll to the side to look at Mendelssohn. "Hermann said that... that even though things have happened differently to us we're still- we're still _the same_ ; we're supposed to _get_ each other. On a 'fundamental level'. D'you think that's still true?"

Mendelssohn looks down, pressing his lips to the top of Tesla's head as he thinks. "Yeah... yeah, mostly. I mean, I kind of got the shitty end of the stick, but we've still got hold of the same _stick_. I just... I thought we were both sort of worried that we might be the clone. I didn't- I thought you had my back, man."

"I thought I did, too," Newt says and stares up at the ceiling. "I still feel the same. I still feel like _me_. I think the same thoughts and do the same things and nothing's changed but- but you _have_. You're quieter and you hang back and- and it's like my brain just assumed that you were the clone because those things? They're not _me_."

"They're not _you_ because _you've_ never had anyone stop a conversation halfway through when they realized they weren't talking to _you_. They're not _you_ because _you've_ never been ignored because the other version of you is in the room. They're not _you_ because-"

"I get it, I get it, I get it! I haven't had to put up with that shit and I never noticed it and I probably would have reacted the same way and _I'm sorry_. I didn't fucking get it and I'm still only just beginning to get it and _I don't want to get it_ because it _sucks_. And recognizing that it sucks for me means I have to accept that it's been sucking for you the entire time and- _fuck_." Newt pushes his fingers up under his glasses and presses against his eyes until geometric shapes begin to form. "I'm an asshole. I know I'm an asshole. But I didn't want to be an asshole to _you_. And now it's too late. It's already happened and-"

"It's not too late," Mendelssohn says and Newt feels him relax into the couch, bumping their shoulders together. "Just... Stop being an asshole."

"Now you sound like mom," Newt snorts.

"Eh, as far as advice goes, it's not terrible," Mendelssohn says with a shrug. "And... I probably could have _said_ something. I mean... turns out that whole suffering in noble silence thing is _ass_. I don't know why people do it."

"You don't recommend it?" Newt says turning to look at Mendelssohn with a smirk.

"Nah, being an oblivious asshole is way better as far as living standards go," Mendelssohn says with a wry smile.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, man," Newt shakes his head and reaches over to scratch Tesla between the ears. "Meet you halfway? Noble asshole sound good to you?"

Mendelssohn snorts and shifts his hand so Newt can stroke his fingers down Tesla's back. "Yeah, yeah, that works."

Newt rests his head on the back of the couch and looks up at Mendelssohn. "In that case... Come to bed, noble asshole," Newt says in a soft voice, hand drifting away from Tesla to stroke down Mendelssohn's arm. "Hermann's waiting for us."

Mendelssohn looks at Newt's hand and nods slowly. "Let me just put Tesla to bed." He pushes himself up to stand, taking Tesla over to the rat run and giving him a kiss on the head before settling him into the lowest cage. The second he's free, Tesla sniffs around for a second and then darts up through the pipes to sit in the highest point. "He likes it up there," Mendelssohn says as Newt comes to stand behind him. "I think he misses his friends."

"Yeah, we'll have to work out what to do with them eventually. They'll probably all fit in here if... If- Yeah." Newt shrugs and looks over his shoulder and then he's turning back and Mendelssohn's nodding consideringly and Newt has to say it. "Look, I- I still don't want to have _that_ conversation. We've- There's been enough emotional upheaval for one night but- but in the interests of being a _noble_ asshole... I didn't just miss _Hermann_. While I was gone. I- It's- I..."

"I missed you, too," Mendelssohn says with a half-smile and Newt mutters _fuck it_ and pulls Mendelssohn to him, wrapping him up in a hug. 

Newt's forehead is pressed against Mendelssohn's and he's pretty sure he meant it as a sign of solidarity but then he's nosing Mendelssohn's cheek and leaning in and it's the first time they've kissed without sex or anger as the impetus and it's only been a few days but it feels like _so_ much longer and he can't stop because what if it _stops_. He's pushing Mendelssohn up against the wall and Mendelssohn's hands are in his hair and by the time they absolutely _have_ to break away for air they're disheveled and breathing heavily.

"This is fucked up," Newt says as he drags his lips across Mendelssohn's lightly stubbled cheek to kiss his neck.

"Yeah," Mendelssohn agrees and he's hitching his leg up until it's wrapped around Newt and shuddering as their cocks press together through their jeans.

" _We're_ fucked up," Newt says, thrusting up against Mendelssohn with a groan.

"Yeah," Mendelssohn says, nodding emphatically as he grabs hold of Newt's ass to keep him moving.

"Hermann's waiting," he says and drags his teeth over the tendon straining where Mendelssohn's tilted his head to the side.

"We should- we should go," Mendelssohn says and it feels like he's trying to drop his leg down so they can break apart but keeps getting caught up in sensation. "We've got a _plan_. We were- We've- Shit. We've gotta go. Gotta go. Come on." Mendelssohn pushes at Newt's shoulders until he stumbles back and grabs him by the wrist, tugging him towards the door. They stumble through the lab, swiping at the light switch before tumbling into the hall and Mendelssohn's poking Newt in the side muttering _come on, come on, come on_ as Newt fumbles through locking the door then he's dragging him down the hall and into their room.

Hermann straightens as they burst in and whatever he was going to say is lost to a yelp of surprise as Newt wraps himself around him, tugging up his undershirt to slide his hands over skin as he shuffles them back towards the bed.

"You made up, I take it?" Hermann says when Newt shifts away to pull the undershirt over Hermann's head.

"We made up." |   
---|---  
| "We _so_ made up."  
  
Newt undoes the top few buttons of his shirt and holds up his arms to let Mendelssohn pull it up over his head and when he's done and righted his glasses Hermann's sitting on the bed, the box of condoms beside him, threading his fingers into Newt's belt loops and tugging him forward until he's standing between Hermann's knees.

"Mend said you guys have a plan?" Newt says, resting his hands on Hermann's shoulders as Hermann begins to work at his button and zipper. 

"Did he now?" Hermann says innocently as he pulls and tugs Newt's jeans down until they're low enough to step out of, then he's got his hands on Newt's hips and he's kissing Newt's stomach and nosing his way through the thick thatch at the base of Newt's cock and dragging his tongue up the shaft before sucking him in.

"This- Shit, this is a good plan. I like this plan," Newt says, hands tightening on Hermann's shoulders as he stares down.

Mendelssohn appears beside him, hooking his chin over Newt's shoulder and at some point he got naked because all Newt can feel from shoulder to thigh is skin. "That wasn't part of the plan," Mendelssohn murmurs trailing his fingers down Newt's back, slipping between his cheeks to rub at Newt's hole and he didn't even hear the lube being opened but it's wet and slick and Newt gasps, legs spreading as the finger slips inside.

"Plans can- They can always be improved upon and this is- this is a great plan- an _awesome_ plan. Mm, yeah, more. Give me more." He turns his head and seeks out Mendelssohn's lips as his hand works its way up Hermann's neck to massage his scalp. His breath hitches as Mendelssohn pushes a second finger in, stretching him wider, and the combination of that and Hermann squeezing the base of his cock and sucking him long and slow makes him shudder. "Was your plan to make me come straight away? Because- because, mmm, that's what's gonna happen."

"Hermann. Hermann, stop," Mendelssohn says but his fingers don't stop scissoring and moving and Newt can't help the way his hips twitch back and forth between fingers and mouth. 

When Hermann pulls off with a disappointed grumble, Newt can only whimper and lean back against Mendelssohn as Hermann shuffles back and shoves his underpants down and off before ripping open a condom packet and sliding it over Newt's dick. Hermann looks over Newt's shoulder with a nod and then Mendelssohn's fingers are gone and Hermann's pulling Newt down to lay over him.

"Wait, no, you've gotta-"

"I never said _what_ I was stretching," Hermann says in a low tone into Newt's ear as he hitches a leg over Newt's hip and reaches back between them with a slight grimace to line them up and then Newt's sliding in and Hermann's falling back to the bed with an expression of bliss. Newt moans and his hips stutter at the thought of Hermann alone in their room with his fingers up his ass and he's leaning forward, lips dragging wetly over Hermann's chest and throat and his hips are moving.

"Was that- that part of your plan?" Newt asks rising up to look Hermann in the eye, losing himself in the moment and taking Hermann's lips in a rough, sloppy kiss. "Lure me away and finger yourself in our room? Is that- Is-"

"That was just a happy - _mmm, yes_ \- a happy coincidence," Hermann says, shaking his head and chasing Newt's lips and then Newt can feel him stretching past him, holding his arm out. "This- this is part of the plan."

Newt glances behind him and Mendelssohn's standing behind him, nudging his legs apart and standing between them as he drapes himself over Newt's back, kissing his shoulder and dragging his nose up his spine. "You ready?" Mendelssohn says and his breath is hot on Newt's neck and Newt can only nod and say _yeah, yeah, do it, do-_ before he's moaning and his head's dropping to Hermann's chest and he's filling and filled and surrounded by skin and warmth and if this is what coming home feels like he can die a happy man.

Mendelssohn starts moving, sliding in and out and Newt's rocking back into him and it's awkward and not quite right and Mendelssohn's muttering into his back. "Come on, man, we can do this. We can do this. We've got _rhythm_." 

Newt snorts and can't help but start laughing into Hermann's chest and he doesn't even need to see Hermann's face to know he's rolling his eyes and he's snickering as he stops moving and pats Mendelssohn's hip until he stops, too. "Hold up, hold up, just- gimme a sec." 

"Oh for- This plan did not involve the two of you _giggling_ like _schoolchildren_ ," Hermann says in a disgruntled tone and Newt raises his head to kiss that stupid frown off his face. 

He reaches back takes hold of Hermann's thigh, hoisting him up so he can get a better angle as he starts to thrust slowly, into Hermann and pushing back onto Mendelssohn. "Thought you said you weren't grouchy when you were _having_ sex," Newt says with a moan as Mendelssohn starts to move with him.

"I'm not- I'm not grouchy," Hermann says breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed as he works his hand between Newt and himself to pull himself in time with Newt's thrusts.

"That's patently un- untrue," Mendelssohn says into Newt's back, forehead pressed into the centre as he reaches down and grabs Hermann's other thigh, holding tight as he thrusts hard to push Newt deeper into Hermann.

"I don't - _ah_ \- I don't care about this conversation anymore," Hermann says and pulls Newt down to kiss him, free hand cupping his face and sliding over his shoulder, patting Mendelssohn's cheek with outstretched fingertips as he arches against Newt. "Just keep fucking me. Just keep _moving_."

They keep moving and it's nothing but touch and sensation and every thrust and pull makes Newt gasp and shudder and he's sure he's going to be the weak link that topples first and spoils it for everyone else. He's gripping Hermann's thigh, fingers kneading as he urges Hermann to touch himself, get himself off. Hermann's getting more vocal and demanding and it's making Newt smile; he's trying not to laugh as he kisses Hermann wherever he can reach - lips, throat, chest - and he can hear Mendelssohn behind him muttering curses. He never wants this to stop, never wants to leave this warm cocoon on the precipice of joy. Hermann's murmuring dirtily into his ear telling him to _fuck him hard_ and his hand's whipping back and forth between them, grazing Newt's stomach with his knuckles, and then he's tensing and coming with a choked off cry. 

Newt picks up speed, asynchronous in the pursuit of pleasure, and Hermann's tight and squeezing around him and he wants to catch up, wants to fall with Hermann and join him in bliss and he's grunting with the effort and it's not sexy but Hermann's running his fingers over Newt's face, down his sides and he's arching again to give Newt a better angle and he's shuddering and can feel it coming and then it's there and he is, eyes squeezed shut and light dancing behind his eyes as he groans and falls forward, pressing his face into Hermann's throat and ignoring the way his glasses are skewed and pressing uncomfortably into his cheeks. He feels Mendelssohn rise up, letting go of Hermann's thigh so he can plant his hands on either side of them and fuck his way to completion. Newt's sore and oversensitised but he knows that feeling and squeezes around Mendelssohn. Mendelssohn gasps and tenses and collapses forward, face rubbing back and forth between Newt's shoulder blades as he whines and his hips gives a few final, jerking thrusts.

They're all breathing heavily and Mendelssohn's a dead weight against his back and he knows he's pressing heavily into Hermann. He adjusts his hips and slips out and Hermann makes a low disappointed sound but all he can think about is how they came in order. He reaches up and pats Hermann's face gently in consolation. "We fell like dominos. Sexy, sexy dominos."

Hermann huffs a quiet laugh and turns his head to kiss Newt's fingertips. "Get off me," he says and Newt snorts and nudges Mendelssohn with his elbow until the weight is lifted and he can roll over onto his back between the two of them.

"I want to come back from Sydney _every_ day," he says as he pulls off the condom and knots it with fingers tingling and uncoordinated and throws it in the general direction of the trash.

"We don't have the coordination for you to travel that often," Hermann says, head rolling to the side to look at Newt with a lazy smile. He raises a hand and trails a finger down Newt's cheek. "Welcome home, Newton."

"It's good to be back," Newt says, leaning into the touch. He can hear Mendelssohn moving on the other side and turns his head to watch as he sits up.

Mendelssohn grabs a washcloth from the bedside table and wipes himself off, passing it to Newt when he's done. "Glad you're home and everything but oh my god do I want to sleep," Mendelssohn says, looking down at Newt with a fond smile. 

Newt shakes his head and stands to clean himself off with a corner before holding out a hand and pulling Hermann to stand as Mendelssohn pulls back the covers. He swipes the cloth down Hermann's chest and stomach, then wraps his arms around him, leaning up to kiss him as he gets his back. Hermann shudders as the cloth touches his hole and he gasps into the kiss and Newt has to break away to look up at him with a smirk.

"You really like that, don't you?" he says, and he doesn't know what delighted looks like on his face, but he's pretty sure Hermann doesn't either judging by the way he tenses and pulls away slightly, features settling into an imperious frown.

"You didn't seem to find it problematic earlier," he says with a sniff and Newt tosses the cloth toward the bathroom and tightens his arms, shaking his head.

"Just cataloguing your sexual idiosyncrasies for later use," he says with a smile. "Current entry? Dr. Hermann Gottlieb: PhD. DTF."

"Not inaccurate," Hermann concedes and pulls Newt towards the bed, pushing him down until he's lying beside Mendelssohn. He lowers himself to the bed and then he's scootching up beside Newt and pushing at his hip until he's spooned up close behind him, an arm wrapped around his middle. Normally, he'd hate that - feeling trapped and closed in - but as Mendelssohn rolls over to face him, knees bumping against his, he can't think of anywhere he'd rather be. He reaches out and puts his hand across Mendelssohn's middle, pulling until he's up close and their heads are all on the same pillow.

"Glad you're back," Mendelssohn says quietly. "Bed felt empty, man. We didn't know what to do with all that extra space."

"And yet, here we are, taking up even less space than usual," Newt says and he feels Hermann huff against his neck.

"Did you two always chatter so much?" He says in a tired, disgruntled tone.

"Hey, if Pentecost had his way, I'd still be in Sydney and it'd be quieter than a tomb," Newt says, looking over his shoulder at Hermann and smirking when Hermann's grip tightens around him.

"Not- not-... No," Hermann says and kisses Newt's shoulder. "I would prefer- I'm glad you're not- Talk if you must, but I am going to _sleep_."

Newt chuckles and squeezes Hermann's hand, turning back and bumping his forehead against Mendelssohn's and maybe everyone sharing the same pillow was a bad idea. "Sorry, man," he says quietly and then Mendelssohn's arm is wrapping around them and he's kissing Newt softly, pressing their foreheads together as he pulls back.

"I'm glad you're not in Sydney," Mendelssohn says and Newt feels like a child at a slumber party, whispering so they don't wake anyone up.

"Me, too, man," Newt says and he feels Hermann pressing his face between his shoulder blades and rubbing in annoyance and smiles. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

He closes his eyes and drifts, letting the comforting weight of Hermann's arm around his middle, and the warm humid puffs of Mendelssohn's breath on his cheek, soothe the remnants of the ache in his chest. Not everything was broken; Hermann and Mendelssohn had wanted him back even after everything that had happened. 

The thought of trying to unpack and work out everything he feels towards Mendelssohn still scares the bejeezus out of him - it feels like staring up at an impenetrable wall, bearing down on him and making his heart flutter with panic - but he tightens his arm around Mendelssohn and thinks that maybe he should try sometime soon. 

Mendelssohn curls in closer to him, hand resting against Newt's chest, and he tries to quell the panic that rises and makes his head hurt when he thinks about what it all _means_. 

Mendelssohn's lips press soft and pliant against his cheek and his hand rubs softly over his chest. "I can feel your heart, man," he whispers into the dark. "Whatever it is, you're okay. It can wait until morning."

Newt nods and takes a deep breath and tries to push everything out of his mind, focusing on the warmth surrounding him, and how fucking lucky he is to be back in it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No major warnings that I can discern.

The next time he wakes, he thinks it's morning and he's on his stomach, diagonally across the bed with his face pressed up against Hermann's side and Mendelssohn curled up tight in the top corner. He pulls himself up until his head's resting on Hermann's stomach and feels Hermann's fingers start carding through his hair.

"Morning," he murmurs sleepily and drapes his arm over Hermann's middle. "Been awake long?"

"Twenty minutes or so," Hermann says and Newt somehow finds the energy to pull himself up to lie along Hermann's side, close enough that he can see.

"You don't have to stay, y'know," he says quietly placing his hand on Hermann's chest. "If you've got things to do, we're not gonna freak out."

"I wanted to stay," Hermann says wrapping an arm around Newt and rubbing his palm up Newt's side. "I had been hoping to wake up _between_ you - that was nice - but... this is good also."

"I know you're an early riser - and, seriously, it's just weird that you can just open your eyes and _be awake_ \- but don't think you _have_ to stay to make us happy. I don't want to mess with your work."

Hermann reaches for Newt's hand and threads their fingers together. "Communication and compromise. I'll stay until Mendelssohn's up."

Newt stretches up and kisses him softly. "In that case, let's see how quiet you can be." He smirks as he untangles their hands and trails his fingers up Hermann's morning wood, raising an eyebrow daringly.

"Cheeky," Hermann murmurs as he leans in to kiss Newt again.

Newt grins into the kiss and wraps his hand around Hermann's dick, pulling and stroking him until Hermann comes with a quiet gasp. Newt strokes him through it and glances over his shoulder and he's pretty sure Mendelssohn's still asleep. "Huh," he says looking back at Hermann who's still catching his breath. "Either you're _really_ quiet, or I'm a _really_ heavy sleeper."

"Both," Hermann says palming Newt's cheek until he's close enough to kiss. 

"We should probably clean up the evidence. That was kind of a dick move," Newt says and Hermann's lips twitch, eyes twinkling. "Oh my god, he said you laugh at dick jokes but I never would have believed- Holy shit, man; you're as bad as us."

"One must not let oneself be undermined by one's shortcomings in a professional context," Hermann says face shifting into a blank mask.

"Being _human_ is not a shortcoming, Hermann," Newt says with a shake of his head, dropping a quick kiss to Hermann's lips as he stretches over him to grab a few tissues from the box to wipe Hermann down. "You realize that I'm going to try and make you laugh in the lab now, right? There's going to be so much cock flying at you you'll think we've grown wings."

Hermann recoils slightly, face shifting into a grimace of distaste. "That mental image is truly awful," he says and then the bed's shifting and Mendelssohn's draping himself over Newt's back and looking down at them blearily.

"What's awful?"

"Newt's - and, by proxy, _your_ \- facility with metaphor," Hermann says and his expression softens to fondness as he watches Mendelssohn nod uncomprehendingly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Mendelssohn asks rubbing his eyes against Newt's shoulder.

"I was being greedy. He said he was only going to stay until you woke up," Newt says and smirks as Mendelssohn stretches over him to put his arm over Hermann's chest and hold him in place.

"Not letting you leave, man," Mendelssohn says petulantly and Hermann smirks and pats Mendelssohn's cheek, stretching up to give him a kiss.

"I have a lot of work to get done today; there will be other mornings," Hermann says as he draws back and pushes himself up to sit.

"At least stretch here," Newt says hand flopping down into the warm space Hermann vacated. "It'll save you time; you won't have to get dressed, go back to your room, get undressed..."

"You've got to admit, he makes a good argument," Mendelssohn says as Hermann swings his legs over the edge of the bed. They can vaguely make out Hermann shaking his head and then he's taking their glasses off the nightstand and passing them back to them.

"He makes an _adequate_ argument," Hermann says as he grabs his boxers and pulls them up to his knees before standing and hoisting them up the rest of the way. "I'll still have to get undressed to _shower_." He rolls his eyes and makes his way carefully across the room, kicking their clothes out of the way before turning around and bracing himself against the wall. He lets out a slow breath and leans forward, letting his arms hang down in front of him.

"Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about," Newt says with a smirk and then Mendelssohn's hand is sliding down his stomach to wrap around his dick.

"If I didn't know you quite so well, I'd be worried about your tendency to eroticise pain," Hermann says looking up from the stretch with a grimace.

"Wait, you're in pain?" Newt says batting Mendelssohn's hand away and he doesn't think he's ever gone soft that fast before.

"You make it seem-" | "It doesn't look-"  
---|---  
"That's- No, that's not  
cool." | "I- _We_ wouldn't-"  
  
"Oh, calm down," Hermann says as he shifts into another position, holding onto his calf. "I know you don't mean anything by it; I'm sure if I saw you in this position, I'd be equally aroused. But I find it very hard to concentrate knowing we're at opposite ends of the spectrum."

"Shit, man," Newt says and he's rising up to sit on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the edge of the mattress tightly. "It never really _clicked_."

"It just- Every time I've seen you do it, it seems like it's something you just _do_. It never even showed on your face," Mendelssohn follows up and Hermann shrugs as he relaxes for a moment before resuming the same position.

"There's no point in complaining about something that will not change. I do the stretches, and then they are done. They help me retain mobility," he says and Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look.

"Hermann," Newt says waiting until Hermann looks up again before continuing. "I'm really sorry. If I'd had any idea-"

"I know," Hermann says and straightens waving his hand for the two of them to come stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around their middles and pulling them close when they do. "You are oblivious, hotheaded, and oftentimes absentminded, but you lack the capacity for active cruelty. I wouldn't _be_ here if I thought otherwise." He kisses each of them in turn and smiles sincerely.

"Doesn't make us any less sorry," Mendelssohn says, mouth turned down at the edges. "We'll let you get back to it."

"Stay a moment," Hermann sighs and rests his head against Mendelssohn's chest. "The warmth is nice... Soothing."

Mendelssohn kisses the top of Hermann's head and looks at Newt with a shrug in his eyes. After a long moment, Hermann pats them both on the back and rights himself.

"That's a welcome change," he says as Newt and Mendelssohn walk away.

"What is?" Mendelssohn says, starting to make the bed.

"Rather than going from aching, to sore, to both at once, I get to go from a distant twinge, to sore, to soothed once more," Hermann says resuming his routine. "I always forget how much difference waking up warm can make, and heat is something you two have in spades."

"Are you trying to make an argument for staying here every night?" Newt asks stopping in the bathroom doorway. "Because I'm cool with that. Mend, you cool?"

"I'm cool. You should bring some clothes and stuff over. Shower here in the morning. Y'know, showering with one person's pretty sexy, showering with _two_ -"

"Is not going to happen in a cubicle that size," Hermann says and stretches up toward the ceiling.

"Buzzkill," Newt says pulling a face and disappearing into the bathroom. By the time he gets out, the bed is made and Mendelssohn's pulled clothes out for the two of them. Mendelssohn takes his place and Newt gets dressed, sitting on the bed staring down at his hands when he's done.

"I didn't mean you shouldn't watch," Hermann says looking at Newt seriously.

"It's different now," Newt shrugs and he's keeping his eyes firmly on Hermann's face. "Before there was this weird disconnect between _why_ you do it and you _doing_ it. I mean, I only ever saw you stretch in quarantine before, so it was like my brain just decided you were focused on keeping in shape. I was... dumb."

"Oblivious," Hermann says as he comes to sit beside Newt, picking up his trousers to work them up his legs. "Not ignorant. Remember that."

"Remember what?" Mendelssohn says as he comes out drying his hair.

"We weren't deliberately ignoring that he was in pain," Newt says and shrugs. "We should probably start up a shared doc. Just put in the general gist of conversations and stuff."

"Good idea," Hermann says and motions for Mendelssohn to come sit on his other side. "But before we do that, I want to take advantage of this." He takes their hands and places them on the small of his back. "Don't rub, just press lightly. _Oh_ , that's good." He closes his eye with a sigh, leaning into Newt slightly.

"Feeling better?" Newt asks after a while.

"Much," Hermann says and leans over to kiss him softly before turning to Mendelssohn and doing the same. "Thank you. Now, I must be off." Hermann places his hands on Newt and Mendelssohn's shoulders and uses them to leverage himself up and do up his pants. "Pass me my shirts, will you?"

Newt and Mendelssohn grab one each and hold them out and watch as he slips on his undershirt and does up the top three buttons of his shirt. Hermann uses his cane to flip up his sweater vest and pulls it on over top and grabs his blazer from over the back of the chair.

"See you in the lab," he says as he walks over to the door and looks out through the peephole.

"Uh, are we ever going to actually tell anyone about this?" Newt says looking between Hermann's back and Mendelssohn. "I mean, the whole sneaking out thing is kind of-"

"I don't do it for _me_ ," Hermann says cutting Newt off. "Apparently the last time we had this conversation I wasn't clear enough. Me sleeping with both of you implies that the two of _you_ are also sleeping together, or at the very least, doing things that people that closely related genetically should perhaps not. I'm trying to avoid _gossip_ not the admittance of a relationship. You're the one who has a problem with that word, remember?"

"Oh, right. Um. Right," Newt says and looks at Mendelssohn who holds up his hands in a way that says he's doesn't want to touch this conversation with a ten foot pole.

"You don't wanna talk about it," Mendelssohn says with a shrug and Newt looks away. It's a sore point between them and it's going to keep being a sore point between them until he can pull his head out of his ass.

He's not ready to pull his head out of his ass. Even after last night, he's hit by a rising panic and a mental block that shuts him up and keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

"Am I free to leave?" Hermann asks after a few moments of tense silence and Newt nods.

"Yeah, sorry. Yeah. See you in the lab." He grabs a boot from the floor and pulls it on, focussing very intently on it as Hermann opens the door and slips out. He can feel Mendelssohn's eyes on him and he preemptively shakes his head.

"Not... not yet," he says without looking up. "I just- I can't... It-"

"I don't _want_ to have that conversation either, just to be clear," Mendelssohn says and he manages to get his sneakers on and done up but the time Newt's got his first boot done. "But if we want Hermann to feel comfortable coming and going, then we're going to have to."

"I know. I _know_ , alright?" Newt says looking up at Mendelssohn standing by the door. "I just... I need time."

"You've had a shitload of time, man," Mendelssohn says with a shake of his head. "I'll see you in the lab."

The door slams shut behind him and Newt sighs and tugs on his other boot before heading out. He goes up to Medical to pick up the tumour samples he left in the mass-spec lab, and by the time he gets to the lab Mendelssohn's setting up an experiment and Hermann's working at the chalkboard.

"Were you sulking, dude?" Mendelssohn asks in a judgemental tone and Newt gives him the finger and holds up the transport container.

"Left these in Medical last night, figured we'd need them," Newt says and pulls out the samples before sticking them in one of the fridges. He heads to the alcove and flips open one of the laptops, adding them to the inventory before grabbing a pair of tablets and opening up the chromatographs they've collected to compare them.

"So, what's happening with the pigs now? Griggson gonna autopsy them?" Mendelssohn asks as he flops down beside him.

"Do you have any idea how long pigs live, man? I don't think he's going to put them down any time soon. He calls them all 'Sugar'. He actually said to me 'Sugar never really dies'," Newt shakes his head and swipes between the results for the rats, unable to see any significant difference.

"Was he that creepy at the academy?" Mendelssohn asks narrowing his eyes. "I don't remember him being that creepy at the academy."

"People change over time. Even being on the outskirts of war fucks you up," Newt shrugs and then pauses, looking off into the distance. "Remember what it was like at the beginning? Scary and exciting and 'what the fuck just happened?' and then it happened again and again and everyone was _so_ fucking anxious and freaked out. 'Giant fucking monsters are destroying cities and we have no fucking clue when or where they're going to hit next. On the count of three, _panic_.' Now? That shit's normal. 'There's a giant fucking monster coming sometime in this three week period. Just make sure you can get somewhere safe; we'll beat the fuck out of it with a giant robot.' I'm not surprised Griggson's losing it, to be honest."

"That still doesn't tell me what's happening with the pigs," Mendelssohn says, frowning at Newt's digression.

"Oh, right. They're going to monitor them for the next two weeks; make sure they don't mutate. Then if all goes well... we'll get x-rayed?" Newt looks over at Mendelssohn questioningly. "Do we get x-rayed?"

"I want to say no, but I don't think that's going to fly with Pentecost. Or Katz. I think we're going to have to do it. 'For science'. " Mendelssohn says and slumps down beside him. "We still going to be cool if we have definitive proof?"

"Yes?" Newt says letting the tablets drop to the side, out of his line of sight. "How much can really change?"

"Dude," Mendelssohn frowns at Newt, shaking his head in disbelief. "Do you not remember the argument we had about this? _Yesterday_. You're only just getting your head around the idea that you _might_ be the clone. What's it going to do to you if you _are_?"

Newt looks down at his lap, thumbs playing with the edge of the tablets. "I got nothing."

"I've made my peace. But this? This is going to fuck you up either way." 

Newt shrugs - he doesn't even know how to begin to deal with this - and changes the subject. "Pinky swear we won't go on a homicidal rampage if we're the clone?" He holds up his hand, pinky out, and Mendelssohn rolls his eyes and grabs it with his own.

"There's no statute of limitations on a pinky swear," he says and pushes himself up to stand. "I'm gonna get one of the other Taurax samples out to thaw and give the rats a check-up before breakfast. You want in?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Newt says and powers down the tablets. "Any sign of tumors on the rats? Wondering if it's a side-effect of the substance and not something that was inherent in the pig."

"Nothing yet," Mendelssohn shrugs as he picks a sample and hauls it out of the locker to thaw on the gurney. "You found any sign of tumors on you? Weird growths?"

"Only you on my back in the morning," Newt says as he takes one of the Taurax rats and starts checking him over.

"Pfft. See if we let you sleep in the middle again," Mendelssohn says wiping his hands off as he heads to the other end of the set-up to check on the Doors rats.

"I'd also like to veto that - for purely selfish reasons," Hermann interjects not looking away from the board.

"Yeah, yeah, you like the middle, we know," Newt says and switches rats. "How long are we going to keep these guys separated?" He asks turning to Mendelssohn as he looks over the rat. "I mean, I don't want to get Griggson-creepy, but, I kinda don't want to do any autopsies."

"I hear that," Mendelssohn says and holds the rat close to his chest, stroking its back as he thinks. "Maybe we keep them? Tell Pentecost we're doing a long-term study? It's not like we don't have the space." He gestures at the rat run - Tesla's still sitting at the highest point - and then at the five rats in front of them. "We'd just need to make sure they were all identifiable."

"Could work." Newt puts the rat back in the cage and checks the control, just to be sure. "Keep 'em separate a while longer; it's only been a week. Shit could hit the fan at any time."

"Sure, sure. Anything on your end?" Mendelssohn asks as he puts the rat back in the cage and heads to the sink to wash up.

"All three were tumor free. Looks like Griggson just sucks at picking test subjects," Newt says and follows. "Or... given that pigs are closer to humans genetically, it's what the substance does to humans. Ugh. Who said being on the cutting edge of science was _exciting_? This is _balls_. Pure straight up _balls_ , man."

"Seriously. I mean, there's a part of me that wonders if we're going to go Jeff Goldblum and start growing scales and turning into a lizard or some shit." Mendelssohn says as he dries his hands and looks at Newt speculatively. "You think we'd get two dicks?"

" _Excuse me_?" Hermann says chalk screeching across the board as he turns to look at them.

"Some reptiles have two penises," Mendelssohn says as he holds his hands up in front of him, curled into fists with the index fingers pointing out. "They work in tandem; one goes in, one comes out."

"Knowing our luck we'd get the sputum plug variation and, just, no. _No_."

"Sputum... plug...?" Hermann asks wide-eyed.

"That's a biology lesson you really don't need to learn," Newt says with a shake of his head. "You go back to your numbers. All that math looks pretty _hard_."

Hermann stares at him blankly before closing his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. "Child."

"No, no, it's okay. Whatever you're working on looks pretty important. Just make sure you _get it up_ there."

"It's not going to happen, Newton," Hermann says and keeps working.

"You want me to clean your dusters? You're gonna need 'em if you want to _rub one out_ ," Newt says with a giant grin and Hermann's head drops forward, chin pressed to his chest.

"Oh for..." He says and turns to Mendelssohn. "Are you-"

"Why do mathematicians never get constipated?" Newt cuts him off and Hermann frowns, eye twitching slightly.

"We can always work it out with a pencil. That wasn't innuendo."

"The goal's just to make you laugh. There's no parameters set for _how_ ," Newt smirks and Hermann pinches the bridge of his nose and turns back to Mendelssohn.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" He asks and Mendelssohn shrugs.

"Yeah. Think I'm gonna have the _sausage_ ," Mendelssohn says and Hermann stares at him, jaw hanging open in disbelief.

" _Both_ of you?" Hermann wipes a hand over his face and grabs his cane from the fourth rung of the ladder and walks toward the door.

"Can't let him have all the fun," Mendelssohn says with a smirk as he follows, bumping his shoulder into Newt's as he passes. 

Leaving the lab, they make their way to the elevator and the ride up to the commissary must feel interminable for Hermann. Newt and Mendelssohn stand behind him to either side each leaning forward when they think of a pun and all Hermann can do is shift from side to side and make apologetic faces at the people sharing the elevator. He doesn't laugh once.

Breakfast continues in the same way, through the food line and to the nearest table with enough space. Tendo joins them and _joins in_ and Hermann's face gets progressively cloudier.

They don't stop on the way back and by that point it's been forty-five minutes of solid innuendo and Hermann appears to have entered a Zen state of calm, face blank with only a tinge of resignation around the eyes.

"You going back to work?"

"Yes, Newton. I am going back to _work_." Hermann doesn't look at either of them as he walks across the room to pick up his chalk and resume his calculations.

"Let me know if anything _springs up_ ," Newt says and holds his hand up for Mendelssohn to high-five.

"Yeah, no," Mendelssohn says leaving Newt hanging. "We set a pretty low bar and that was really lame. Sorry, dude."

"Aw, come on," Newt says and lets his hand drop, looking over at Hermann with a pout. "Does smirking count? He's totally smirking."

"You set the goal at laughter," Hermann says looking over his shoulder with a supercilious smile. "I am not laughing."

"Oh, it's on, man," Newt says waving a finger at Hermann as he walks across the lab. "I'm going to _flood_ you with dick. You're gonna _drown_ in it. You're gonna come face to face with Long Dong Silver and cop a load of salty spray."

"Are you still talking?" Hermann asks as he rolls his eyes resumes ignoring him.

Newt huffs and walks over to where Mendelssohn's standing poking at the sample on the counter.

"Still solid?" he asks and Mendelssohn raps it with the back of his knuckles.

"Should have got it out yesterday. I ran out of tests to run, and I've got exactly jack and shit to do. We know how it works and what it does but we've still got no clue _why_. I mean, short of actually observing the kaiju 'in the wild', I'm not sure we're going to _get_ one," Mendelssohn says and smacks his hand against the solid lump of kaiju flesh. 

"You're hitting the wall - I get that. But we've got enough walls out here without adding to them," Newt says turning around and leaning against the table so he can look at Mendelssohn. "Pentecost isn't going to accept 'we dunno' as an answer. We've just got to keep plugging away. If we hit that wall enough, it'll come down."

"Or we'll smash our skulls open," Mendelssohn says wryly and picks up a scalpel to see if he can shave a piece off. "I dunno, man, maybe we're missing something. I've been over everything that's come out of the other shatterdomes on the Taurax samples they got and there's nothing that really indicates what this shit is or how it fits in as a part of the larger entity. According to the database, there's still a few samples that haven't been checked out - this is one of them - so maybe they hold the missing piece but, dude, the well is running dry."

"We'll find something. I mean, there's _so_ many people working on Taurax right now. You, me, Griggson, Quan, and Stella on the core problem; Kotova and her time in Vladivostok; Nakata and his time in Tokyo; even _Sheng_. _Something_ is bound to come up," Newt says and squeezes Mendelssohn's shoulder. "We've still got those tumors to work through. They're new; maybe they'll throw up something we haven't thought of. You wanna work on 'em with me until this thaws?"

"Yeah, sure, gotta do _something_ ," Mendelssohn says and follows Newt to the fridges to grab the samples.

The rest of the morning is spent going over slides and testing reactions and finding yet more nothing. It's getting close to one when Newt strips off his gloves and looks over at Hermann, watching him as he writes for a moment and then holds the chalk back so he can read what he's done, finger dancing in the air as his lips move. Newt looks over at Mendelssohn and smirks, nudging him with his elbow to get his attention.

"Go lock the door," he says in a low tone, jutting his jaw in Hermann's direction to see if Mendelssohn's still following his thought processes. 

Mendelssohn looks over at Hermann then at the door, and, after staring at Newt for a moment with a frown, his face lights up and he makes his way quietly across the room as Newt tries to sneak up behind Hermann.

"If you're coming over here to tell me I'm holding a pasty white phallus in my fingers, you'd best be aware that it's not going to make me laugh," Hermann says without turning around and Newt clomps the last few steps to stand closely behind Hermann, resting his hands on Hermann's hips.

" _Phallus_ , forgot about it. I'm sure we can pull a few out of that one," Newt says and presses up against Hermann's back, hands sliding down to the front of his thighs. "I might have a few _fallacial_ arguments for you."

"One, you've just admitted that you're _logically unsound_ ," Hermann says with a sigh. "And two, they don't even have a common root."

"Ah, but it does sound similar to _fellatio_ , and that's what I wanna do," Newt says into Hermann's ear and lets his hand drift over to cup him through his trousers. "Come on, let me take that matter in hand. It's nearly lunch and I feel like carb loading."

Hermann's shoulders slump and he bumps his head into the blackboard. "Oh for- You _told_ me."

"Told you what?" Newt asks, looking at Mendelssohn in confusion as he comes to stand beside Newt.

"You _told me_ you were sleeping together. The day after it happened. You 'took _that matter in hand_ '". Hermann thumps his head into the blackboard a few times before twisting around in Newt's arms to face him.

"You asked us why we weren't fighting. What were we supposed to do? Tell you we started getting along because we jacked each other off one night?" Newt asks incredulously and Hermann wipes a hand down his face, shaking his head.

"The closer I get to you the more _little_ things become clear," Hermann says looking at the pair of them with a bewildered expression. "I'm just beginning to wonder what else I'm going to discover; what other conversational mines have you left over the years?"

"Um. A lot?" Newt says looking slightly guilty. 

"I'm not exactly subtle, though. So they're probably not going to be that surprising," Mendelssohn follows up with a shrug.

"Let me suck your dick. Make it up to you?" Newt says looking up at Hermann with wide-eyed innocence and Hermann looks away with a snort and a smile. "Does that count as a laugh? It sounded like a laugh."

"It was a _snort_. You've still got your work cut out for you," Hermann says looking at Newt fondly with a shake of his head. "What was that you said about fellatio?"

Newt stretches up and kisses Hermann, pushing him until he's braced against the blackboard. "Was that anything important?" He murmurs into Hermann's lips and Hermann shakes his head, pulling him back.

"I'll remember it," Hermann says and kisses Newt again, letting himself be pushed back against the board and widening his legs so Newt can rub up between them. He breaks away from the kiss and pulls Mendelssohn closer, murmuring _not an afterthought_ into his lips as Newt drops to his knees.

Newt looks up and Mendelssohn's pressed up against Hermann's side, bracing him with an arm around his middle as they kiss. He unzips Hermann's trousers, leaving the button done up as he reaches in and fumbles with Hermann's boxers until he can pull his half-hard dick out through the gap. He presses his face into the apex of Hermann's thigh, grasping his hips as he noses at Hermann's dick, following with his tongue until he reaches full hardness. He glances up and Hermann's stopped kissing Mendelssohn and is staring down at Newt, breathing heavily. Maintaining eye contact, he licks one long strip up the underside of Hermann's dick before drawing the head in and sucking gently.

Hermann makes a small sound of pleasure and Newt breaks, closing his eyes so he can slide as far down as he can and swallow. Wrapping his hand around the base, he sets up a slow pace, sucking as he pulls back and squeezing with his hand as he slides back down. He glances up occasionally to watch Hermann and Mendelssohn making out above him and has to resist the urge to palm himself through his jeans. 

He's got a hand on Hermann's ass to hold him in place and he's using it as leverage to get Hermann as far into his mouth as he can. Hermann's making noises into Mendelssohn's mouth, his hand coming down to cup the back of Newt's head as his hips make small abortive movements. Hermann's hands tighten on his shoulder and he can hear him pulling away from Mendelssohn, breathing heavily as he starts muttering _I'm close, I'm close, Newton, Newt_ and trying to pull him off. Newt refuses to budge and sucks harder until Hermann's hand's flailing behind him, grabbing onto the ledge and sending chalk and dusters flying as he comes into Newt's mouth with a stuttering sigh. He swallows and continues to suck as Hermann softens in his mouth, the ache in his jaw dulled by the knowledge that he got Hermann to come in the lab. Fantasy achieved: ten points to Ravenclaw.

Hermann pushes him off and Newt leans back and rests on his haunches, looking up at Hermann as Mendelssohn kisses his throat and rubs his hand over Hermann's stomach. Hermann's eyes open and he's gesturing for Newt to stand and Newt hauls himself to his feet, letting himself be pulled against Hermann and kissed lazily and sloppily. 

"Mmm, that was a welcome break from work and innuendo," Hermann says with a lazy smile, letting his head thump back against the board.

"You're going to get chalk in your hair," Newt says, magnanimously giving Hermann a break. 

"I don't care," Hermann says wrapping his hand around Mendelssohn's middle and pulling them both close. He nuzzles into Mendelssohn's neck and sighs, relaxing for a moment before he straightens. "Now, what were you saying about lunch?"

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look as Hermann lets go and pushes himself to stand, grabbing his cane from the fourth rung of the ladder and walking towards the door. Newt rolls his eyes and turns to follow.

"Hey, wait up. You've got chalk dust all over your back. Stop moving, I'll beat it off for you," Newt says and Hermann's head drops down and his shoulders shudder. 

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look and rush around to look at Hermann's face. 

"You're laughing! You're totally laughing! I wasn't even _trying_ that time," Newt says pointing at Hermann and then Hermann's looking up and pulling Newt to him.

"That's always when the best ones occur," Hermann says into Newt's lips before kissing him, laughter still coming in small puffs through his nose as he walks Newt back towards his side of the room. "Up. Up on the desk," he says as they reach the stairs. "Allow me to return the favour."

"You're not just going to leave us hanging?" Newt says as he stumbles backwards up the stairs, flailing to grab onto the rail so he doesn't fall over.

"I might have a few fantasies of my own," Hermann says with a wicked smile as he rounds the top of the stairs and pushes Newt back against it, kissing him as he undoes Newt's fly and pushes his pants down over his hips. He pulls back and watches Newt's face as he wraps his hand around Newt's dick and strokes him a few times, smirking at the way Newt stares down between them. "Mendelss-" Hermann starts and then glances from side to side, straightening until he can look around the room. Mendelssohn's still standing by the chalkboard picking up the pieces that fell to the ground when Hermann came and not paying attention to them. "Mendelssohn, what are you doing all the way over there?" 

"Uh, cleaning up? I didn't know if-"

"Get over here," Hermann says with a frown and a frustrated wave of his hand. He pats the table behind Newt and pushes at him until he hops up and then waits until Mendelssohn's standing beside him before continuing. "It's never an _if_ , Mendelssohn. Always a _where are you? Why aren't you here_?" Hermann says and kisses him, repeating his actions with Mendelssohn's fly and trousers and pulling back to watch his eyes close as he strokes him. 

"Sorry for not being able to see how you giving him a blowjob could include me," Mendelssohn says a little defensively and Hermann tightens his grip and kisses him again.

"You don't know my fantasies of late," Hermann says as he pulls back and Mendelssohn closes his eyes, brow furrowing in confusion as he shakes his head.

"You've had fantasies about having two mouths?" Mendelssohn says and Hermann stares at him before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"They involve _both_ of you, you imbecile," Hermann says swatting at Mendelssohn's chest and then pushing him back until he hops up on the desk.

"It did kind of imply that you'd been dreaming of having two mouths," Newt says leaning back on his elbows so he can gesture with his hands. "Just saying."

Hermann rolls his eyes and leans against the table, hovering over Newt as he hooks a stool with his foot and pulls it closer. "Only the pair of you would come to _that_ conclusion," he says as he sits down smoothing his hands down Newt's thighs and arranging the flaps of his jeans for better access.

"Or anyone who was listening to the context- _oh god_. Yeah, fuck this conversation, shit," Newt says as Hermann takes hold of his dick and swallows him down without preamble or fanfare. He wraps his legs around Hermann's back and wishes he was sitting up straighter so he could run his hands over Hermann's shoulders, but instead he's left with his fingers sliding over the smooth steel of the table and Mendelssohn pressed up against his side. He watches as Hermann's other hand snakes over to Mendelssohn's thigh, sliding up until his fingers can wrap around his dick and then he's stroking and sucking them in unison.

"I did it again. I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to do it again. He was kissing me and then his hand was on my dick and I forgot. I-"

"Dude, shut up and enjoy your blowjob," Mendelssohn says and then he's twisting so he can kiss Newt and the position is awkward but Hermann's sucking him and all those fantasies about that wide mouth don't even begin to live up to the reality because Hermann is _good_ at this, so much better than he expected. Every time Hermann pulls up, he runs the tip of his tongue under the head in a way that makes Newt's skin tingle and he's always thought of Hermann as a giant windbag but he might as well be a vacuum if the rate at which all coherent thought is being pulled from his mind is any indication. 

Mendelssohn manages to get a hand up and he's palming at Newt's chest and Newt wants to touch back, wants to hold Mendelssohn's head in place so they can kiss properly, wants to run his fingers through Hermann's hair, but he's sure that if he moves he's going to fall onto his back and he wants to _see_. He breaks away, gasping for breath as he stares down at Hermann, eyes closed and the picture of focus as he sucks up and down Newt's dick and his hand's still working Mendelssohn, multitasking like a motherfucker. Mendelssohn kisses down Newt's neck, hot and wet, and Newt can feel everything getting tighter and his fingers are clenched against the surface of the table, breath coming in short sharp gasps, legs tightening around Hermann's torso and he's trying not to thrust but it's so warm and he's babbling _just like that, just like that, oh oh god Hermann, I'm gonna, I'm_ and then Hermann's sucking harder and tightening his grip on Newt's hips and Newt's eyes are squeezing tight as his entire body tenses and he spills down Hermann's throat.

He collapses back on the table, head hanging over the railing and he has to reach up to keep his glasses from falling to the floor. Hermann's pulling off and pushing his legs down from around his middle and he can hear the wheels on Hermann's stool as they roll across the floor. His legs are dangling and he can feel his trousers sliding down to his ankles but he doesn't want to move. He's not sure what Hermann's doing but when Mendelssohn gasps against his throat, fingers grasping at his chest, he thinks he gets a fair idea.

He raises a hand, lazy and uncoordinated and palms at Mendelssohn's cheek until he raises his head, staring at Newt intently as Newt stretches up and kisses him. Regaining himself, he pushes up until Mendelssohn's leaning back on his elbows, and presses in, sliding his hand down Mendelssohn's chest until he can slip it under his shirt and ruck it up. Running his hand over Mendelssohn's stomach and side, he can feel the scar from where he had his appendix out at twenty-five, the lump from the mole he had removed when he was thirty, he knows this body and he knows that if he rubs the pad of his thumb over his nipple when Hermann's pulling up, Mendelssohn will gasp into his mouth and shudder; he knows that trailing his fingers down Mendelssohn's spine will scatter pinpricks of sensation over his chest and shoulders; he knows that if he reaches down and takes Hermann's hand, moving it from Mendelssohn's hip to the apex of his thighs and presses down to make Mendelssohn's legs spread a little wider, Mendelssohn will moan and arch his back and then Hermann will know that, too.

He presses his forehead against Mendelssohn's temple as they both watch Hermann; he's got one hand pressing down on Mendelssohn's thigh, the other on his hip, shoulder up under Mendelssohn's leg and his lips are stretched around Mendelssohn's cock. If Newt hadn't already come he'd be getting hard just from the view. Hermann glances up and there's a smug glint in his eye and Mendelssohn's babbling _a little more, just a little more, please, Hermann, please please pl- oh god, I'm gonna_ and from this angle Newt can see Hermann brace himself and swallow and swallow and swallow until Mendelssohn goes limp beside him. 

He rubs a hand over Mendelssohn's side, feeling his skin twitch beneath his fingers as he watches Hermann pull off and uses Mendelssohn's shirttail to wipe the edges of his mouth. Newt snorts and rests his head on Mendelssohn's chest, smirking down at Hermann.

"You're like a blowjob machine, man," Newt says. "Just one after another. Bet you could probably do fifty more and not break a sweat." 

Hermann gives him a haughty look and opens his mouth to speak but is beaten to the punch by Mendelssohn.

"Hermann Gottlieb's Fordist Fellatio Factory," Mendelssohn says breathlessly. "Any color you want as long as it's pearly white."

Hermann narrows his eyes at Mendelssohn and stands. "See if I let you in on any future fantasies." 

"Hey, no, it's not-" Newt says struggling to sit and hop off the table, standing in front of Hermann with his pants around his ankles.

"You're far too easy to rile at times," Hermann says with a shake of his head, pressing up close to Newt to kiss him as he slides his hands over Newt's hips and down to his ass and then Hermann makes a noise into his mouth and Newt feels a short, sharp pain across one cheek and he breaks away to stare up at Hermann wide-eyed.

"Did you just smack my ass?" Newt asks incredulously and Hermann just smirks.

"The opportunity presented itself," Hermann says taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing. "Sometimes I believe you have an _unreasonable_ amount of _ass_." 

"Hey, my ass is perfectly reasonable," Newt says looking at Hermann challengingly.

"In this, and every other context to which that statement could potentially apply, you are _wrong_ ," Hermann says with a smirk and pats Newt on the ass once more. "Come now, pull up your trousers and let's get lunch. I'm _famished._ " Hermann releases Newt and reaches for his cane, heading towards the door.

"Dude, you just ate, like, the population of _Guam_ ," Newt says and Hermann halts in place, turning to look at Newt with a disgusted expression.

"Do you not want me to do it _again_?" He asks raising an eyebrow and Newt holds his hands up before remembering he was pulling up his pants and scrabbling to pull them up.

"Hey, no, it's cool," Newt says as he does up his button and zips himself up. "Come on, Mend, basking in the afterglow is for losers. Reptar wants food."

"Did you just refer to yourself as Reptar?" Hermann asks, waiting by the door.

"No, I referred to _you_ as Reptar. Keep up, old man," Newt says and then turns with a frown to look at Mendelssohn. "You okay, dude?"

"I'm good," Mendelssohn says as he struggles to sit and keep hold of his trousers. "I'm just a massive, _massive_ loser, oh my god."

Newt smirks as Mendelssohn fumbles to do up his jeans and then turns to look at Hermann with a frown. "Hey, what would have happened if we hadn't made you laugh?"

Hermann smirks and unlocks the door. "We would have gone to lunch - one of us a little more relaxed than the other two." He pulls the door open and steps through, leaving Newt and Mendelssohn to exchange a disgruntled look and follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The innuendo is truly awful, yes. It is Top Shelf compared to the stuff I found on a google search. I have wasted three hours of my life searching the internet for quality dick jokes. None of those came from the internet. Do not search the internet for dick jokes. Learn from my mistakes.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click on the end notes link for warnings.

Lunch is unremarkable and the rest of the afternoon no different. There's a part of Newt's brain that hopes that every test and experiment they run will bring some amazing insight or breakthrough. Luckily, it's tempered by years of experience that make every non-result a piece of the puzzle rather than a failure outright.

They go to dinner and return feeling bloated and slow but unwilling to throw in the towel so soon. It's nearing ten when Newt and Mendelssohn look at each other and shake their heads and do their nightly pass of the rat cages; surprise, surprise, still no changes.

"Hey, Hermann," Newt says as Mendelssohn packs up the sample to put it in the fridge overnight. "You coming 'round tonight?"

"I, ah, I was thinking that I would- I'm not really up for anything, tonight," Hermann says and he's not looking away from the chalkboard, but he's also not writing anything and that makes Newt nervous.

"Oh. Right," Newt says and turns away taking a few steps before turning and opening his mouth and shaking his head. He takes a few more steps and repeats the process. Finally, he stops in the centre of the room and turns around again, planting his feet as he looks up at Hermann. "We could- I mean, it's okay if you don't want to come, I'm not some fascist bed dictator, but, uh, if you wanted, we could- we could just... sleep?"

Hermann's not moving and Newt's stomach is clenched tight with anxiety and he can't remember the last time he actually got past the honeymoon stage with someone and it didn't all fall apart but Hermann used the R word and wasn't just using it to mean _sexual relationship_ \- was vehemently opposed to the thought of limiting it - so maybe it would be different, maybe they'd be alright, maybe-

"You would be okay with that?" Hermann asks tentatively and now he's looking at Newt and Newt can see the apprehension in his face.

"Well... yeah? I mean, you like the middle and you said it's good for your- and it's not really important if we have sex or not if you're there and are we about to have another important you-and-me-and-him talk because I kind of just want to go to bed and sleep beside you and... not do that right now," Newt says and Hermann looks down, nodding slowly. "We could go to yours, if it's- we're spending too much time in our room, right? You probably want your things and to not have to leave in the morning and-"

"Newton, that's- that's not the issue," Hermann says shaking his head. "I- I have a single. We wouldn't fit. It's-" He looks away with a frown. "You seem very... adamant... that our relationship be... predominantly sexual in nature. I do not wish for-"

"Hermann. Hermann, stop. Come down here," Newt says waving a hand as he walks to stand at the base of the ladder. He waits until Hermann makes his way down the rungs and turns to look at him. "We took you to _dinner_. We _want_ to talk to you. We- I am _bad_ at- at big changes and this is pretty big - not end of the world panic attack in my bathroom because cities are being destroyed _big_ \- but still pretty big and I don't want to use the R word because I don't want to fuck this up but I _do_ want to sleep beside you and don't think I didn't notice you made me have a you-and-me-and-him talk. Shit, man, how did you do that?"

"You had that talk all by yourself," Hermann says with a soft smile.

"You sly fox," Newt says with a shake of his head looking down at his boots and scuffing his toe before looking up at Hermann, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging. "Come over. Hang your clothes over the back of the chair. Sleep in the middle."

"I have some things to finish up here. I can come in about an hour," Hermann says, his smile fading as he finishes. "Is that okay?"

"Any time you want to come crawl into our bed is a good time," Newt says stretching up to kiss Hermann softly. "We don't even have to be there. You're always welcome."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Newt kisses Hermann one last time and takes a step back. "See you in an hour." He backs away with a small smile before spinning on his heel and walking toward the door. "Yo, Mend, I'm out. I'll leave the door open."

Mendelssohn waves distractedly and keeps typing into the laptop. "Right behind you," he says and then Newt's out the door and heading down the hallway with a spring in his step.

When he gets to their room, he's feeling light and a little bit giddy and he's reaching for the wheel before he starts up the steps and trips, banging his knee on the top step and bumping his head against the door. "Motherfucker," he spits as he pulls himself up and rubs his knee before spinning the wheel angrily and storming inside; that's what he gets for being in a good mood.

He makes his way into the bathroom and flicks the switch, leaning in close to check out the damage - the skin's red, there's a goose egg forming and the skin is hot to touch, but it's not split and there doesn't seem to be any real damage. Running his hand under the cold tap, he cups it around the bump for a while until it feels slightly smaller before brushing his teeth and stripping off to his boxers.

Mendelssohn's coming in when he leaves the bathroom and he does a double take when he sees the bump. "What'd you do? Go all Agent Cooper on the mirror?"

Newt flips him off and dumps his clothes on the laundry pile and his boots by the door. "Tripped coming in." He shrugs and flops down on the bed, grabbing the tablet and propping it up on his knees to go over their email.

"You gotta watch that, man. That whole gravity thing will fuck you up," Mendelssohn says with a roll of his eyes as he goes into the bathroom. He comes out five minutes later, dumps his clothes and his shoes and flops down beside Newt. "Griggson's report's up. It's basically the same shit you told me but with a lot more u's and fewer z's in the words."

"You think I'd make it up?" Newt asks glaring at Mendelssohn.

"Yeah, jump to _that_ conclusion. Idiot." Mendelssohn says thwapping him on the back of the head. "I'm saying you didn't do a terrible job of explaining it. He did use a 3D printer as an example, which makes way more sense. But, otherwise, y'know, the same."

"I'm glad you approve," Newt says drily and closes down the mail client. "Aw, dude, come on. Why would you make that the background? Are you trying to orchestrate a midday movie plot?"

"Shut up. It's not like both of us are in the picture," Mendelssohn says and Newt stares at him, dumbfounded before swiping to a page with fewer icons and pointing to the corner.

"I'm right there. _Watching_ you. And I have a really sappy look on my face. I didn't know I could look that sappy, jeez," Newt peers down at the little box in the corner in disgust and Mendelssohn snorts.

"You had that look the _entire_ time we spoke. _Every_ time we called. It was cute." Mendelssohn nudges Newt with his elbow and smirks and Newt frowns, opening up the photos to pick a different picture.

"Did you take any caps of me?" He asks as his hand hovers over the pictures of Hermann stretching.

"Hermann had the tablet. Thought it'd be kinda obvious if I took it off him to start taking caps," Mendelssohn says and Newt looks down and brings up one of the caps of Hermann and Mendelssohn looking intently at the screen.

"So this is all there is of me?" He asks quietly staring down at the little box in the corner.

"There's the pics Katz took that night in quarantine," Mendelssohn shrugs and Newt sighs. "We could-... we could take some now if you're that beat up over it."

"Nah, it's okay," Newt says and Mendelssohn gives him an unimpressed look and scoots closer as he reaches toward the tablet and opens the camera. "Dude, seriously, it's okay." Mendelssohn continues to stare at the side of his head with an unimpressed expression as he very deliberately presses the button to take a picture. "What are you- I totally wasn't ready for that." Mendelssohn sticks his tongue out and presses the button again and Newt snorts. "You are such an asshole." Mendelssohn tilts his head to the side and gives a single-shouldered shrug and continues pressing the button at random intervals. Newt shakes his head and looks down trying to keep the smile off his face. "You've made your point."

"I don't think I have," Mendelssohn says and leans in closer finger still tapping the button without rhyme or reason to its rhythm. 

Newt looks over at Mendelssohn and he's a little surprised by how intent the gaze is, how serious. "This is the kind of thing that will definitely get us caught," Newt says but Mendelssohn just leans in closer until their noses are brushing.

"What are they gonna do? Punish us? Talk about us behind our backs? We can handle that shit - wouldn't be the first time," Mendelssohn says and he's so close now that Newt can feel his lips brushing against his and out of the corner of his eye he can see the screen flash with every new picture. "Maybe I want pictures of this." His breath is hot on Newt's face, minty fresh and humid, and Newt knows that he's not going to have to move very far and that Mendelssohn's not going to be the one to start anything. 

He shifts forward a fraction of an inch and then Mendelssohn's lips are on his and they're kissing softly, lips gliding against each other, and Newt has to close his eyes to block out the flash in the corner of his eye and for a moment he can pretend this is just for them. HIs hand slides up Mendelssohn's neck and he cups his cheek as he deepens the kiss and then it's just the soft, wet sounds of skin on skin and the occasional light thud of Mendelssohn's finger hitting the screen that fill the room.

"Don't get worked up," He says a little breathlessly, pulling away for air. "Hermann's just coming over to sleep."

"We should take video," Mendelssohn says, leaning his forehead against Newt's and grinning conspiratorially. "Send it to him when he least expects it."

"I like the way you think," Newt says face sliding into a matching grin and then Mendelssohn's looking over at the tablet and switching it to video mode. He raises an eyebrow at Newt as his finger hovers over the record button and Newt nods, reaching for him as Mendelssohn presses record. 

Mendelssohn's hand drops to Newt's stomach, rubbing over his side as they kiss. Their hands run over each other as they move with the flow, heads turning to get better angles, sometimes pushing forward, sometimes leaning back. Newt's thighs are tight, trying to keep the tablet angled right and he isn't sure how long they make out but when they hear the wheel being turned on the door, they break apart and scramble to look normal before Hermann can catch them.

"Hey, Hermann." | "Hi, Hermann."  
---|---  
  
Newt barely glances up as Hermann walks through the door, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and closing the camera, pulling up the chromatographs to hide what they were doing.

Hermann narrows his eyes at them as he closes the door and shrugs off his blazer. "You look suspicious, the pair of you," he says as he lays it over the back of the chair and sits to untie his shoes. "Were you kissing?"

"Us? No. We were just... going over these chromatographs," Newt says as innocently as possible, holding up the tablet to show Hermann who nods slowly as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and slips it off his shoulders but doesn't look any less doubtful. 

"Just hanging out. Doing science. In bed. Bed science," Mendelssohn says with a short laugh that sounds fake even to Newt.

"Right," Hermann says, hands hovering over the button of his trousers. He fiddles with it for a moment, not sliding it through the hole, and keeps his gaze averted. "Maybe... maybe I should go back to my room."

"What? Why?" | "What? Why?"  
---|---  
  
"So you can finish what you started?"

"Hermann, get into bed," Mendelssohn says, crawling off to pull the covers back and gesture at Hermann's spot.

"I don't want to put a dampener on things-" Hermann begins but is stopped when Mendelssohn places a finger over his mouth.

"You're not putting a dampener on _anything_ ," he says and takes his hand away, holding it out in front of him. "Come to bed."

Hermann nods slowly and takes Mendelssohn's hand, allowing himself to be pulled up.

Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Mendelssohn makes quick work of his trousers and lets them fall to Hermann's ankles, holding him steady as he steps out of them before passing him off to the bed.

"It-... It never occurred to me that... that _I_ might be the one getting jealous," he says with a twist of his lips as he settles down stiffly in the middle of the bed. "I don't know why. It should have been obvious given that you and he were together long before we were."

"Hermann," Newt says, pressing up against Hermann's side and rubbing a hand over his stomach. "It's not like that. It's- You're not making me have another you-and-me-and-him talk tonight. Nuh uh." He stretches behind him and grabs the tablet off the nightstand and opens up the video. "We made you a video, you surprise-ruining ruiner." 

Hermann takes the tablet and holds it up at arms length as it plays.

"We were going to send it to you when you least expected it," Mendelssohn says, curling into Hermann's side and resting his head on his shoulder to look up and watch. 

"I'm of two minds about this," Hermann says and when Newt looks at his face his expression is indecipherable. "On the one hand, it's perversely touching that you thought of me. On the other... I _know_ you would have sent this at an inopportune time to manipulate me. _Ah ah ah_ , you know this to be true." Hermann holds up a finger, waving it at them admonishingly. "I had not expected to feel... left out. Especially when I specifically said I only wanted to sle- This video is thirty minutes long." 

"We got a little carried away?" Newt says sheepishly.

Hermann sighs and stops the playback, lowering the tablet to his lap. "I'm being irrational. We should forget-"

"Hey, no," Mendelssohn says, thwapping Hermann's shoulder. "If I've learned anything over the past few weeks it's that none of this is really rational. I don't mean that in a 'this is stupid and crazy' kind of way. Just that, the whole emotion thing? Doesn't really make any sense. We're _going_ to feel left out every once in a while, but - and I know this is your first time 'round this block, so just hear me out - it _does_ get easier. It's oversight or miscommunication or whatever, but so far? It's _never_ been intentional. And it's not going to be. Even when you're not there? You're _always_ there. Here." He taps his head. "And here." He reaches over Hermann and taps Newt's. "You with me?"

"Yes," Hermann says sounding chastened.

"Good," Mendelssohn says and looks at the tablet, reaching down to press a few things and open the camera. "Now, you broke the third rule. We're going to have to punish you."

" _What_?!" Hermann jerks back sounding scandalised.

"Pfft, it's nothing bad. Figure of speech," Mendelssohn says and pries Hermann's index finger off the back of the tablet, adjusting it so it's over the capture button. He pushes Hermann's arms until he's holding the tablet up high again and leans in. "Just keep tapping the screen." He smirks and looks over at Newt, jerking his head to the side to get Newt to move in before leaning in and kissing Hermann's cheek.

"Is this some kind of fetish?" Hermann asks looking between Newt and Mendelssohn skeptically. 

"Keep tapping," Mendelssohn says rubbing Hermann's chest and smiling over at him. "Newt pointed out that there weren't any pictures of him. Now, there'll be pictures of all of us."

"That's why you're doing this?" Newt says frowning at Mendelssohn who rolls his eyes.

"Nobody's being left out. Now shut up and kiss him. Hermann, keep tapping." 

There's a small smile on Hermann's face as Newt places his fingertips on Hermann's chin and turns him to kiss him softly and slowly. Newt can feel the bed move as Mendelssohn scoots in closer and kisses Hermann's neck and once more the room is silent but for the soft wet sounds of kissing and the occasional tap of a finger against glass. 

Mendelssohn braces Hermann's arm when it looks like he might lower it and murmurs _keep tapping_ against his jaw, just below the ear and Hermann smiles into Newt's lips, laughing softly as he turns, nudging at Mendelssohn until he raises his head and kisses him again.

"Don't you think we've got enough?" He asks quietly, relaxing into the pillow and looking up at him.

"Not quite," Mendelssohn says and reaches over to push Newt's head down until he lays it beside Hermann's, before following suit. "Look up at the camera." He stretches his arm up beside Hermann's and points his finger, placing it over top of Hermann's. "Ready?" He pushes down once, and again, and again, and again, and then Hermann snorts and Newt snickers and Mendelssohn's smile gets a tiny bit bigger. "One last one," he says as he turns his head. "Kiss him on the cheek, Newt." 

Newt does and out of the corner of his eye he can see Mendelssohn on the other side doing the same as he presses down one last time and lowers his arm.

"I think that's got it," he says as Hermann brings the tablet back down.

"Feeling better?" Hermann asks with a raised eyebrow and Mendelssohn shrugs.

"Hey, we're out of the honeymoon stage and into the 'I just want to sleep beside you' one. I figured it was a good time to get the ball rolling on the 'happy memories' stuff. That's a thing, right?" Mendelssohn says with a frown, seeming to second-guess himself.

Hermann reaches over and cradles his cheek, leaning in to kiss him softly. "It's a thing."

"Good," Mendelssohn says with a decisive nod. "Then it's now a Thing We Have Done and we can go to sleep."

Newt takes the tablet from Hermann's lap and puts it back on the nightstand as Mendelssohn stretches out of the bed to get the light. He curls up on his side and presses his forehead into Hermann's shoulder, murmuring his goodnights and waits for sleep to come.

The next week passes in a flurry of activity. Mendelssohn takes apart an old tablet and removes the network chips, leaving it a barren lump, reliant on a cable dug out of one of Newt's boxes ofstuff to download. Every so often, one of them sneak up behind Hermann and kiss him without warning, murmuring in his ear that they're off to pursue their 'artistic endeavours'. Hermann just purses his lips and shakes his head and looks suspiciously at them every time he checks his mail.

By the end of the week, they've got a few videos ready for the next time Hermann gets sent to another Shatterdome for work and Hermann just shakes his head and pulls one or both of them into bed when they subtly (read: not subtly at all) intimate that he's going to enjoy his next trip so much he's not going to want to come back.

They make progress on the gland-draining machine, creating a working prototype that functions well enough on a cow liver, but has all the manoeuvrability of a skilltester.

One morning, Newt and Mendelssohn are slow in getting up and arrive at the lab half an hour after Hermann and find him on the landline, pacing and frowning.

"No, you're going to need to explain it to me a little better than 'it's not working'. I need to know the exact nature of the problem if I'm to _fix_ it," he says and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I'll see you in twenty minutes."

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a glance as Hermann hangs up and look over questioningly.

"Shaolin Brave is 'not working right', apparently," Hermann says irritably. "Chances are the next twenty-four hours will be spent knee-deep in code. I'll have to take a raincheck on breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And breakfast again, most probably."

"Anything we can do?" Newt asks and Hermann rolls his eyes and grabs his cane.

"Teach engineers the basic tenets of programming?" he says snidely as he storms out the door.

They watch as the door slams shut behind him and head to work.

"So, aside from the mobility issues in the arm, we're good to go, right?" Mendelssohn says looking over the set up on the table critically.

"It's not ideal, but once we show the prototype to Pentecost we should be able to wrangle some more funding to make it better," Newt says pulling up the rough schematic on a tablet. "We should test all these materials with exposure to Kaiju Blue; that's probably going come in useful way more regularly than this thing."

"Put it on the list of shit we should talk about when we present," Mendelssohn says and grabs a tape measure, stretching it out along one side. "You ready? Okay, the base is thirty by... twenty - we're going to need to extend it out for the gland tray, so make it... forty-five by thirty-five. At its highest the arm to the first joint is... fifteen. Extended it's... twenty-five. Plus the syringe makes it... thirty, round that up to forty-five to be safe. So, we're gonna need two pieces of sheet-metal at forty-five by forty-five, two pieces at twenty-five by forty-five, and two pieces of glass at forty-five by forty-five. And we're going to need some extra for the sample vestibule, so add three pieces of metal at twenty by twenty. What've we got?"

"About an eighth of that," Newt shrugs looking over towards the alcove with a distant expression. "We can probably cannibalize the sound-proofing for the glass - the extra thickness will help - and we've probably got enough metal for the sides, but not the top and back."

"Got any leads on where we can get some?" 

"I pretty much exhausted the goodwill of the Crimson Typhoon guys getting the shit together for the cages and sound-proofing. They're gonna need a lot more cool-off time before we hit them up again. So that leaves Shaolin Brave. Pretty sure Nikki's one-hundred percent _done_ doing favors for me - us - but Raoul might be open to negotiations."

"Sweet, I'll get on it," Mendelssohn says and walks toward the door.

"I'm coming with you," Newt says and grabs the tablet, jogging to catch up.

"You don't have to - pretty sure I can handle weaseling some sheet metal out of a dude," Mendelssohn says frowning at Newt as he pushes the door open and holds it for Newt.

"Dude, for the past week and a half it's been lab-food-bed, lab-food-bed, lab-food-bed. Lab-Jaeger bay-food-bed is gonna be a welcome change," Newt says with a roll of his eyes.

"Says the dude who went 'lab-food-another continent' less than two weeks ago," Mendelssohn says as they walk up the hall to the elevators and Newt shrugs.

"I'd rather go to the Jaeger bay than back to Australia, let's be real here," Newt says and smacks his hand on the button.

"Fair," Mendelssohn concedes as the door dings and they step inside. "What're we going to call this thing? Gland Draining Device is so... lame. And weirdly pornographic."

"It's not much better, but I've been calling it the Milking Machine in my head," Newt says with a shrug.

"That's gross. I like it," Mendelssohn says with a grin. "It's not gonna fly with Pentecost, though - he's the one who's gonna have to sell it to the suits and I'm having huge problems trying to imagine him even saying those words. We should keep thinking on it."

They reach the Jaeger bay and spend the next ten minutes darting between workers until they find Raoul and start negotiating.

"Come on, man, we just need _one_ sheet, not even that," Mendelssohn says gesturing at the pile of sheet metal by the wall.

"We can take scrap; it's a prototype, it doesn't need to be perfect," Newt follows up wracking his brain for what will make Raoul give in. "You need anything fixed? We can fix it, no sweat."

"I can fix things," Raoul says looking unimpressed.

"Yeah, but if we do it, you won't have to. You'll have _time_ and you know how precious that shit is these days, right? Am I right?" Newt nudges him in the side and Raoul stares at him blankly.

"Don't touch me."

"Right," Newt says and steps back looking at Mendelssohn anxiously.

"What about... music? You like music? We've got hard drives full of the stuff. You can take your pick; however much you want," 

"You got post-punk?"

"We've got _everything_."

Someone yells something and Raoul looks over nodding and holding up a hand.

"Tell you what, get me a stick with all your post-punk, Britpop, and psychobilly and you can have that piece over there," he points to a piece of scrap metal that's battered and dented and Newt jogs over and measures it turning and giving Mendelssohn the thumbs up after.

"You've got yourself a deal," Mendelssohn says holding out a hand. Raoul looks at it and turns away. "You need a hand with that, Newt?"

"Music first, then you get your metal," Raoul says looking at them disapprovingly and Newt drops the piece and steps away.

"We'll, uh, we'll bring the stick by before lunch," Mendelssohn says and Raoul nods and walks away.

Newt and Mendelssohn exchange a look and start to walk back towards the elevator. Halfway across the bay, they find Hermann staring up at Shaolin Brave with an irritated frown.

"Hey, Hermann. Everything going alright?" Newt asks as they sidle up beside him.

"No," he says with a sneer. "It turns out they weren't wrong; Shaolin Brave is indeed 'not working right'. They're checking connections and wiring, but if they can't find anything I'm going to have to spend the next _week_ trawling through the code for the corruption."

"Ouch. That's balls, man," Mendelssohn says with a frown.

"Quite," Hermann says and he's walking, still looking up with a frown. "If I can narrow down _where_ the problem is, it will save time, but the _entire left side_ is having issues. It could take _months_ to find the issue and we simply do not have t-"

"Here's the current compile, sir," a young engineer says running up to them holding out a stick that Hermann plucks out of his fingers. 

"Thank you, corporal. Have Finnegan keep me updated on your team's progress," Hermann says and turns, heading back toward the elevators. "Now, I ca-"

"HEADS!" The yell echoes through the chamber and Newt looks up; there's a sheet of metal falling and it's broadside down but any second now it's going to flip and plummet and Newt doesn't think, just lurches to the side shoving Hermann as hard as he can and then he's hitting the deck and his head's thumping against the ground and his ears are ringing and there are people running and shouting and it all sounds so distant.

Suddenly Hermann's in his line of sight, leaning over him and holding his head in place.

"Hermann. Hermann, you okay? Sorry for pushing you," he says and Hermann just stares at him and shakes his head.

"I'm fine- fine, just stay still, don't move. Medical's on their way," Hermann says and he's shaking and looking ashen and Newt wonders how hard he hit his head.

"Don't worry, Herm - head wounds bleed a lot. I'll be fine," he says and raises a hand to check out the damage but then Mendelssohn's by his side, holding his arm down.

"Jesus Christ, man, don't you ever listen? _Stay the fuck still_!" Mendelssohn's shouting and when Newt looks over he's pale and shaking, too. Newt frowns and looks down and there's a piece of metal. He looks over at Mendelssohn in confusion.

"Raoul gave us a whole piece? I thought he wanted the music first. This is way too much, dude. You sure-... you sure we can work with it? Help me up." Newt raises tries to raise his arm again but Mendelssohn won't let it go and Hermann's pushing down on his shoulders, he twists to look up and grimaces.

"Holy shit... Did it wing me? How am I not dead?" Newt asks and Hermann's hand is cupping Newt's jaw and he wonders when they started doing that in public but then he feels two fingers pressing against his throat and he starts to wonder just how bad this situation is. He looks down and there's a tear in his shirt, blood seeping into the thin white fabric around the metal and he looks up and realises there's a pair of engineers holding the sheet upright and he's pretty sure if they let it go he's going to start bleeding out.

"Oh." Newt looks over at Mendelssohn. "We should- we should wash it before we try and work with it. That's- that's gonna make it slippery," Newt says and he's blinking at Mendelssohn and Mendelssohn's a little fuzzy and then without warning everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Blood. Major trauma. Plot relevant, not really skippable. Second paragraph from the end, not hugely graphic.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Hospital setting. Discussions of surgery. Blood donation. It's throughout most of the chapter.

Mendelssohn paces in the waiting room near the operating theatre. To be fair it's barely that - it's a few uncomfortable chairs set aside in a corner, one of which holds Hermann, hunched over and holding his head in his hands.

"They said they'd give us updates," Mendelssohn says, biting at the fingernail on his index finger. "Didn't they say they'd give us updates?"

"It's only been a few hours," Hermann says without looking up. "I'd rather they focus on fixing him than reassuring us. Sit down, save your energy. There's nothing you can do."

" _Exactly_ ," Mendelssohn spits, glaring at Hermann as he continues to pace. "How long have you known me? The less there is for me to do, the more freaked out I get. That's a fucking _fact_."

Hermann sighs and pushes himself to stand before walking over to Mendelssohn and placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. "I have to... _do_ something. Do you want me to get you anything while I'm gone?"

"You're leaving _now_?" Mendelssohn says staring at Hermann incredulously.

"I need to... I have to _walk_. The fall and the... the... I have to walk," Hermann says and he's not looking at Mendelssohn whose eyes are widening and he's turning to grab Hermann by the shoulders.

"Shit, did they check you out when you got here? Are you okay? Someone should check you over. Hey, Hey!" Mendelssohn looks around for someone - _anyone_ \- but Hermann's shaking his head and cutting Mendelssohn off.

"I'm bruised and sore... but I am okay," he says looking down at Mendelssohn solemnly. "He- he saved my life."

Mendelssohn glances away quickly and takes a few deep breaths before looking back at Hermann with a sad smile. "It's worth saving."

It's Hermann's turn to look away and take a few deep breaths. He glances up and down the hallway before pressing his lips to the side of Mendelssohn's head and stepping away. "I'll return shortly."

"I'm getting someone to check you out when you get back," Mendelssohn says bluntly. "I'm not-... I'm not risking losing both of you today."

"You won't," Hermann says, reaching out to squeeze Mendelssohn's shoulder. "You _won't_."

Mendelssohn watches Hermann walk away and then he's left to pace the hall and bite his nails. He tries to peek into the operating theatre a few times, but they've stationed a nurse right in front of the window and he can't see anything. There's a few dog-eared magazines sitting in the corner but he can't focus on them or bring himself to care about advancements in cardiothoracic surgery. It's forty-five minutes before Hermann returns with a bag slung over his shoulder and a pair of coffee cups in a travel tray.

"Here, drink something," Hermann says passing off one of the cups before letting the bag slide down onto the nearest chair and sitting beside it. 

"Thanks," Mendelssohn replies and takes a sip as he watches Hermann rifle through his bag and pull out a power cord, leaning over to plug it in behind one of the chairs and he starts to cough. "Holy shit, man. You're working _now_?" He stares at Hermann in disgust, wiping coffee off his lips and cheek as he coughs the last of the liquid out of his windpipe.

Hermann doesn't look up as he pulls a laptop out of his bag and plugs it in, lips tight and eyes dewy as he focusses on sliding the stick into a slot on the side and opening the lid. "I can't just sit by idly and- and _wait_. This work _needs_ to be done; it's imperative. It does not have to be an either/or situation." Hermann looks up at Mendelssohn pleadingly. "I brought you a tablet. If... if you wish for distraction."

Mendelssohn stares at Hermann and feels the sudden anger drain from him. He looks away and takes another sip, letting the hot liquid burn his throat before he looks back and nods. "Thanks," he says quietly and puts the coffee down on one of the chairs. "I'm gonna get someone to look you over." Hermann opens his mouth to speak and the anger's back, making his jaw clench as he jabs a finger in Hermann's direction. "Do not fucking argue with me right now." He stomps away to the nurse's station as Hermann's jaw clicks shut.

He stands by the nurse's station for a moment - it's empty - and then starts scanning the room. There's a guy standing nearby wearing a lab coat and reading a chart and Newt storms up to him and points in his face. "You a doctor? You're a doctor. Come with me." He grabs him by the arm and hauls him bodily down the haul, ignoring his protests until they're standing in front of Hermann. "This guy? This is the guy that the guy they're operating on right now _saved_. You know who looked this guy over when we got here? Nobody. _Fucking nobody_. You're going to check him and make sure he isn't slowly dying of internal bleeding or so help me I will take this all the way to Pentecost and it'll be _your_ head on the chopping block." 

"Calm down, Mendelssohn," Hermann says with a frown in his direction before turning to the doctor. "He pushed me out of the way and I fell to the side; bruised my knees and elbows and one side of my hip. I am _fine_."

"Shut up with that 'fine', bullshit, Hermann. You could be bleeding from a brand new orifice and you'd still say you were _fine_ ," Mendelssohn says crossing his arms over his chest. "Let the man check you're okay."

The doctor holds up his hands in defeat and takes a seat, pulling a small flashlight out of his pocket. "Have you had any headaches since the fall?" He asks and Hermann purses his lips.

"Only the figurative one standing over there," he says gesturing with his chin.

Mendelssohn flips him off.

"No dizziness? Nausea?"

"I didn't hit my head," Hermann says wearily as the doctor holds the light up to his eyes, flicking it quickly past each one to check pupil dilation.

"Any pain?" He says as he flicks the light off and slips it back in his pocket.

"No more than usual," Hermann says and at the doctor's inquisitive look sighs and extrapolates. "Arthritis. I'm under Dr. Mendes' care."

"Can I see the bruises?" He asks and Hermann huffs and shrugs his blazer off before undoing the buttons and rolling up his sleeves. His palms are slightly abraded and there are red patches on his wrists and elbows. The doctor checks them over and then gestures to Hermann's legs and Mendelssohn has to look away as he rolls up his trousers, suddenly feeling weird about someone else seeing Hermann's knees.

"Do you want to go to a private room for the abdominal check?" The doctor asks and Hermann snorts.

"He'll be convinced you've told me I'm dying while we were out of earshot. Do it here," Hermann says, pushing himself to stand. Mendelssohn walks over to stand beside Hermann so he can steady himself as he pulls his shirttails out of his trousers. The doctor bends over and runs his hand over Hermann's side, pressing here and there and checking Hermann's face for a response.

"There's currently no sign of internal hemorrhaging. Pupillary response is good, there's no blood pooling in your torso or extremities." The doctor stands and motions for Hermann to get dressed. "If you start feeling anything out of the ordinary, come see someone."

"Thank you, Dr. Zeller," Hermann says as he tucks his shirt back in and turns to Mendelssohn. "I told you I was f-"

"Wait, _you're_ Brian?" Mendelssohn says and Brian stares at him with a bemused expression. "I've never seen you outside the suit." He turns to Hermann. "I've never seen him outside the suit."

Zeller shakes his head and nods at Hermann. "Dr. Gottlieb... Geiszler," he says, shaking his head as he walks away.

Mendelssohn sits down and picks up his coffee and sits down, waiting until Hermann rights his clothes and sits beside him to relax and press up against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay," he says and Hermann presses back, squeezing Mendelssohn's knee quickly.

"Thank you for looking out for me," Hermann says as he opens up his laptop once more.

"No one else is getting hurt today," Mendelssohn says, staring down at the coffee cup between his knees. He feels lips pressing against the side of his head and swallows against the tightness in his throat and then they're gone and out of the corner of his eye he can see text on Hermann's screen start to move as he taps the arrow key.

An hour later, the theatre door opens and both Mendelssohn and Hermann scramble to their feet, watching as Katz walks out, pulling a cap from her head.

"Katz? You're not a surgeon. What are you doing in there? It's been _hours_. We were told we'd get updates." Mendelssohn says, mind running with a thousand and one different possibilities, most of which he hopes aren't true.

"I'm just observing and offering advice. Dr. Bhakta's never encountered anything like this before and I'm the closest thing we have to an expert," Katz says holding up her hands to placate Mendelssohn. "I told her I'd come give you an update."

"Well, what is it? Don't leave us hanging," Hermann says and it sounds like his thin veneer of civility is wearing thin.

"The good news is that there was some juice left in the substance you were exposed to - we're seeing signs that Newt's organs are beginning to repair themselves," Katz says and Mendelssohn's eyes widen.

"Holy shit, you mean we've got, like, super healing?" Mendelssohn asks unable to stop himself from stepping forward.

"It's slow, but it's visible. The problem is that we don't know how extensive these repairs will be." Katz pauses and looks at them seriously. "I don't want to alarm you, but I feel you should be prepared. The bad news is that the metal breached multiple sections of his large intestine and his liver. The potential for sepsis is our biggest concern right now. We're doing everything we can to prevent it, but with these kinds of wounds we can never be sure."

Mendelssohn swallows and nods and it feels like his world's coming tumbling down. He'd only just gotten used to _having_ a twin but things were working and everything was going well and now... now it could be taken away in an instant.

"Has anyone come to see you about giving blood? We've got plenty of O in the bank, but the added kick from your blood might be the thing he needs to get through this."

"No- No one's come to see me. When can we start? Where do I go? I'll open a vein now if you need me to," Mendelssohn says practically vibrating in place and Katz puts a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"We can do it now. Follow me," Katz says and turns to head down the hall.

"Dr. Katz?" Hermann interrupts, halting her in place. "How much longer do you expect the surgery will last?"

"At least another three hours, maybe?" She shoves her hands into her pockets and shrugs. "I can't say for certain at this stage." She looks at him sympathetically. "And, I'm sorry, but when he gets out it'll be immediate family only."

Hermann raises his chin and breathes deliberately through his nose as he swallows convulsively. "I-... I see. Thank you, Dr. Katz." Hermann turns and sits, picking up his laptop and staring at the screen.

She stares at him for a moment before she turns and leads Mendelssohn down the hall to an examination room, patting the bed and waiting for him to hop up.

"You've got to let him in to see him," Mendelssohn says as he jumps up on the bed and she adjusts the backrest so he can sit comfortably.

"I'm sorry, Mendelssohn." She shakes her head at him sympathetically and gathers the things she needs. 

Mendelssohn fidgets as she sets up the bag and slides the needle into his and tapes it in place, watching the bag start to fill.

"They were- They were in- _are_ \- They _are_ involved," Mendelssohn says not meeting her eyes. "You can't just make him wait outside."

"How do you fit into all this?" She asks and Mendelssohn shakes his head.

"I don't-... I don't want to talk about it," he says keeping his gaze averted; he will absolutely play the part of the guy left out in the cold if it means Hermann will be allowed in the room when Newt gets out of surgery, but the chances of him giving everything away if they get into details are high.

"I'll make a note on his file that Hermann's his S.O." There's a long moment of silence and then Katz squeezes his shoulder and heads towards the door. "I'll be right back."

She leaves the room and Mendelssohn breathes a sigh of relief, letting his head flop back to the mattress as he stares at the ceiling. 

He already hated today, but now he hates it some more.

Katz comes back five minutes later with a cup and sets it beside him before checking the bag; it's mostly full. "Okay, we're nearly done." She presses a cotton ball against the end of the needle and slides it out.

"You're not going to take more?" Mendelssohn asks as he presses his finger to hold the cotton ball in place and waits for him to bandage it up.

"One is enough for now. We need you healthy, too." She sticks a plaster over the cotton ball and passes the cup to him. "Okay, I want you to sit here and drink this. Don't get up for at least fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Sure, whatever," Mendelssohn says and takes a sip of the juice - it's orange and it's _fresh_ and there's some sort of shenanigans going on because they only ever get the from concentrate stuff in the commissary. "Can you, ah, ask Hermann to come in? I'll let him know what you're doing."

"You sure? I can tell him if you want me to," she says and there's sympathy in her eyes and Mendelssohn has a moment where he realises just how much it would _suck_ if what she thought were true.

"No, it's okay. I can do it," Mendelssohn says and focusses on the cup.

"Okay. Remember, fifteen minutes. No less," she says as she takes the bag of blood and walks out the door. 

A few minutes later, Hermann appears and enters.

"Close the door," Mendelssohn says and waits until the sounds of Medical dim before looking up. "I told her that you and Newt are together. She's going to make a note on his chart that you're his significant other. She doesn't know about us but... they're going to let you in."

In a flash, Hermann is across the room and pulling him into a hug and kissing the side of his head as he murmurs _thank you_ over and over again. 

Mendelssohn's head spins and he has to push away, lying back against the bed and squeezing his eyes shut until the dizziness passes. He pats blindly until he can grab Hermann's wrist and squeeze it tightly. "Sorry, sorry, the- Dizzy. Just gave blood. It's not you. Not you." He feels Hermann's hands cupping his cheeks and then lips are pressing softly against his. When he opens his eyes, Hermann pulls away and looks at him gratefully.

"Thank you," Hermann says and kisses him again and Mendelssohn sighs into the touch - it's probably the last time it's going to happen for a while.

"Better not let anyone see you doing that," Mendelssohn says with a half smile. "People are going to think you're cheating on your boyfriend."

"That was a stupid thing to do," Hermann admonishes as he straightens up and leans against the bed. "You should have _told_ her. We could have dealt with the fallout."

"It's easier this way." Mendelssohn shrugs staring at the cup in his hands. "It's bad enough that- that Newt's in hospital, we don't need to deal with people looking at us funny and talking about us behind our backs."

"Other people's feelings are not more important than being able to _comfort each other_ ," Hermann says firmly, taking Mendelssohn's hand. "I'm going to t-"

"What about-... what about Newt's feelings?" Mendelssohn interrupts, looking up at Hermann sadly. "He wasn't ready. I was pushing him - too hard, or maybe not hard enough - but he- he couldn't handle what it meant. How's he going to feel when he wakes up if everyone _knows_?" He watches as Hermann looks down, biting his lip. "I'm not just thinking about you or him. I'm thinking about _all_ of us. I can handle people thinking I'm the reject, the worst that's going to happen is people give me weird or sympathetic looks - and, hey, maybe I can use it to wrangle some more of this juice out of Katz; check it, it's _fresh_." He holds the cup up to Hermann who holds his hand up and shakes his head. 

"Self-sacrificing at a time like this is a _bad idea_ ," Hermann says sternly. "You cannot expect to carry this burden by yourself."

"I won't be." Mendelssohn shrugs and takes another sip. "They're not going to watch us _all_ the time. We can still... when no one's watching. Look, I'm of sound mind and body. I can _handle_ this. Newt? Newt's going to be loopy on drugs with a giant _hole_ in his side - you were there, you know we are so. fucking. _lucky_ it wasn't worse. He does _not_ need the added stress."

"I understand your rationale," Hermann says, eyes narrowed and lips thin. "But I don't like that the choices we've made have lead us to _this_."

"It's what we've got." Mendelssohn looks away and finishes the juice, crumpling the paper cup between his fingers.

"Are you feeling better now? No dizziness?" Hermann asks looking at Mendelssohn seriously.

"Yeah, I'm cool." 

"Good. Come here," Hermann says and then he's tugging on Mendelssohn's wrist and pulling him into a tight hug. "If you need me, for _any_ reason, you give the word and we will _find_ a way." Hermann kisses the crown of Mendelssohn's head and buries his nose in his hair. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."

Mendelssohn presses his face against Hermann's shoulder and just breathes, arms tight around his torso and he thinks that maybe if they'd done this sooner, the wait for news wouldn't have felt so unbearable. "He's gonna be okay," Mendelssohn says as he finally pulls away.

Hermann looks away for a moment, taking a breath before looking back and nodding slowly. "Yes. He is."

"Help me up. I'm done sitting here waiting," Mendelssohn says as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna go sit out there... waiting." He pushes off the bed and Hermann cups his elbow to keep him steady. He starts to walk to the door and Hermann keeps hold of his arm until Mendelssohn opens the door and they walk back to the waiting area.

The next four hours are spent in the waiting area; Hermann lost trawling through the code, Mendelssohn pacing or attempting to distract himself with research.

"Katz said three hours. Didn't she say three hours?" Mendelssohn says, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

"It was an approximation," Hermann says as he takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm as worried as you are, but it will do nobody any good to get ourselves worked up until we have word either way."

"You know as well as I do that the longer it takes the lower his chances of making it out are. I just want-"

The theatre door opens and a group of people walk out and Mendelssohn's spinning around and yelling at them. "Hey! _Hey_! What's going on? Why are you all leaving? Are you done? Is he- Is he..." Mendelssohn trails off, throat tight and then Katz is coming through the door and Mendelssohn practically leaps toward her. "What's going on? Nobody will tell me anything? Is he okay? Is everything al-"

Katz puts a hand on his arm and cuts him off. "He's currently stable. They're just finishing up and prepping to take him to ICU. We'll let you in to see him - briefly - in about twenty minutes." The door opens behind her and she looks over her shoulder as a woman walks over to them. "This is Dr. Bhakta - she can tell you more."

"Dr. Geiszler, Dr. Gottlieb," she begins and Mendelssohn realises that Hermann's standing close behind him, listening intently. "Surgery went well - we resected part of his large intestine and repaired the damage to his liver. He's currently stable and his pulse is strong." She pauses and her already serious expression deepens. "However, during the early stages of surgery, his heart stopped for brief period before we were able to resuscitate and start him on by-pass. Given the nature of his condition, we've only the most basic information with regards to his brain function. All we can tell is that he has brain activity. At this stage, it would be wise to prepare yourselves for a wait; we cannot be sure when or if he will regain consciousness."

Mendelssohn can literally feel the blood draining from his face as he stares at her; he can't even bring himself to speak. All he got from that was that Newt might never wake up.

"Thank-you, Doctor," Hermann says sounding like he's been punched in the gut. His hand's on Mendelssohn's shoulder and he's squeezing tightly.

"He may yet make a full recovery," Doctor Bhakta continues. "His vitals are strong and, thanks to your condition, his body is already starting to repair itself."

Mendelssohn nods slowly, but he doesn't feel any better. He wants to yell at her for not doing a better job, for not _fixing_ him, but the anger isn't coming and his heart feels cold. He distantly hears Katz say that she'll come get them when Newt's settled and then he's being led back to a seat and he's sitting down heavily. He feels Hermann sit beside him and they're pressed together knee to shoulder and it's all Mendelssohn can do not to lose it entirely.

"Hermann," he whispers and he can't seem to drag his eyes away from the floor. "I need you." 

Suddenly he's being pulled against Hermann's chest and he can feel Hermann's face pressing against his neck and arms wrapped tightly around him, clinging like a limpet. There's a part of him that wants to pull away and tell him that they're giving themselves away, but a larger part is wrapping his arms around Hermann and holding him just as tightly. He's squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to give in to the urge to cry - part of his mind chanting _nothing's certain, nothing's certain -_ and the shuddering breaths, hot on his neck and chest, tell him that Hermann's doing the same.

"Mendelssohn? Dr. Gottlieb?" He hears Katz's voice and the damp patch on Hermann's shoulder tells him they've spent a lot longer than he thought clinging to each other. He wipes his eyes underneath his glasses and turns to look at Katz. "We can let you in to see him now."

Mendelssohn pushes himself to stand and walks over to Katz, shoving his hands in his pocket so he doesn't risk reaching out for Hermann.

"I want you to be prepared before you go in," Katz says as she leads them down the hall and through Medical. "He's hooked up to a lot of machines right now, so there are a lot of tubes and wires coming out of him. He's attached to an EEG as well as to a heart monitor and respirator. He's been catheterized and, to help his body recover from the trauma, fitted with an ostomy bag. We're going to ask that you refrain from leaning or sitting on the bed or touching his abdomen - hands and face are fine within reason." She stops outside a door in a quieter part of the wing and puts her hand on the door. "At this stage, we can give you fifteen minutes-" She holds up a hand to cut off Mendelssohn's protests. "If all goes well, we'll be able to move him to recovery tomorrow and we'll be able to extend visiting hours." She pushes open the door and a steady, regular beep comes quietly out of the darkened room.

Mendelssohn stares at the door. It's been nearly twelve hours since it happened and he suddenly feels apprehensive about what he's going to see when he walks through that door.

"Is it- is it fifteen minutes once we're through the door? Or fifteen minutes since you _opened_ the door?" Mendelssohn asks and he can see the end of the bed and Newt's feet under the covers and he doesn't want to go through and make everything _real_.

"I'll be with you," Hermann says softly, cupping his elbow and when Mendelssohn glances back his eyes flash past Katz levelling a disapproving glare in Hermann's direction.

He shakes his head at her and takes a deep breath. "Okay, let's... let's go."

"I'll come get you when your time is up," Katz says and backs away towards the nurse's station.

The room is dark - lit only by the light above the bed, casting deep shadows into the corners and making Newt's already washed out face seem stark and hollow. There's a tube attached to a bag going into his mouth, slowly filling and compressing as it pumps oxygen into his lungs. There are dark shadows under his eyes and he seems small in the bed.

"Get the door," Mendelssohn says over his shoulder as he steps slowly into the room, forcing himself to place one foot in front of the other until he reaches the far side of the bed. He hears the door click and looks up to see Hermann making his way slowly to the other side of the bed, face ashen.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this quiet," Hermann says as he picks up Newt's hand.

"I don't think I've ever _been_ this quiet," Mendelssohn says on autopilot, taking Newt's other hand - it's limp in his, an IV taped to the back. "I thought-... I thought if he made it out of surgery he'd be okay. He'd just sort of bounce back. I didn't realize- didn't think- I _blocked out_ the recovery part. I blocked out the idea that he'd be spending time in hospital. That he'd be hooked up to wires and- and- I thought- I thought we'd be able to take him home. I don't know why. I- I just..."

"I know how you feel," Hermann replies a hint of self-admonishment in his voice. "It was so easy to think that once he was _fixed_ he'd be alright."

"I need you to cover me," Mendelssohn says staring intently at Newt's face and out of the corner of his eye he sees Hermann's head jerk up, staring at him in shock.

"You can't just take him out of here. He needs to be _observed_ and _cared for_ by _professional medical staff_ ," Hermann says, reaching over the bed to grasp Mendelssohn's shoulder and shake some sense into him.

Mendelssohn stares at Hermann like he's lost his mind. "I'm not _breaking him out of here,_ you idiot. I just-... I need you to block the window. Just stand up near his head." Mendelssohn gestures for him to move and Hermann shuffles up, looking at Mendelssohn suspiciously. Mendelssohn huffs and follows, looking behind Hermann to make sure the view from the window is completely blocked. "You do this, no one bats an eye. It's expected. I do this... there'll be _questions_." 

Avoiding Hermann's eye, he leans down and presses a kiss to Newt's cheek, avoiding the breathing tube and the pump as he sighs and rests his forehead against Newt's. "You're gonna get through this, okay, man? You're gonna get better and we're going to finish making the milking machine and everything's going to go back to normal. You're gonna be _fine_. Don't try and prove me wrong. I'll know you're just doing it to be an asshole." He kisses him again and brushes his nose against his cheek, trying to will Newt to be okay by osmosis - to take whatever he has and just get _better_ \- before he draws a shuddering breath and pulls away, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Hermann says looking at him solemnly.

"Me, too, man," Mendelssohn says, not looking away from Newt's face.

There's a rapping on the window and when he looks around Hermann, Katz is standing there holding up her hand to indicate they have five minutes remaining.

"You should... you should do whatever it is you need to," Mendelssohn says nodding at Katz with resignation. He watches as Hermann hangs his cane off the railing and feels about until he has a hand resting on the metal frame of the bed before leaning forward, brushing a hand through Newt's hair as he stares at him with a lost expression.

"Why would you do something so foolish?" He asks in a broken tone and Mendelssohn has to look away, feeling like he's intruding on something intensely private. "Why would you risk yourself for- for _me_? It should be _me_ on this bed. You shouldn't- You can't-" There's a long period of silence and when Mendelssohn looks over, Hermann's face is pressed up against Newt's, eyes squeezed shut, breathing raggedly. "You're not allowed to- to-... _decline_. You have to make it through this. You have to... come back to us." There's a knock on the door and Hermann gulps for air as Mendelssohn glares at the door and holds up a finger. "Come back to us, Newt. _Come back to us_." He kisses Newt's cheek and then he's pushing himself to stand, grabbing for his cane and making his way swiftly out the door. 

Mendelssohn looks down and squeezes Newt's hand, a small part of him hoping that the movement of the IV will jolt Newt awake and he'll call Mendelssohn an asshole and everything will be okay. 

He doesn't. 

He lays there attached to the monitors and machinery keeping him alive and he does absolutely nothing. 

Mendelssohn clenches his jaw and leaves the room, stopping outside to look at Katz. "When can we see him again?"

"We can let you in again briefly in the morning. We should know by the middle of the afternoon whether it's safe to move him to recovery," she says and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. "Do you want me to restrict visits to one person at a time? That can't have been easy."

Mendelssohn looks away and shakes his head. "It's fine. What time in the morning? Seven? Eight? Nine? I need specifics here."

"Come at nine. I'll make a note on his chart for them to let you in," she says and Mendelssohn nods, looking down the hall as Hermann disappears around a corner.

"I've gotta go. See you tomorrow," he says distractedly as he jogs to catch up.

Hermann's in the waiting area pulling the cord out of the wall and balling it up to shove it haphazardly in his bag, followed by the laptop and tablet.

"Hermann, _Hermann_ , wait," Mendelssohn says as Hermann shoves the bag over his shoulder and starts to walk away. "They're letting us back in at nine. I don't know how long for, but Katz says they'll know if they'll be moving him to recovery by mid-afternoon."

"Good. That's... good," Hermann says, not turning around. "I have a lot of work to get done. I'll see you in the morning."

"What? _No_." Mendelssohn grabs Hermann by the shoulder and walks around him to stand in his path. "You're not letting me go through this alone. And _I'm_ not letting _you_ go through this alone. Here," he digs into his pocket and pulls out his key. "Take this. Go back to our room. You can work just as well there. I'm gonna grab us something to eat, okay?"

Hermann stares at his hand. "I- I think I'd rather be alone," he says quietly and Mendelssohn shakes his head.

"No, the last thing you need is to be alone right now," Mendelssohn says slipping his key into Hermann's blazer pocket. "I- I was there, man. I heard what you said to him. I know I'm not _him_ but- but I'm here. And I want you to be okay, too."

Hermann's hand drifts over his pocket and for a second Mendelssohn thinks he's going to take the key out and hand it back. Instead, he nods slowly and smooths his hand over his side. He steps past Mendelssohn without a word and disappears down the hall and Mendelssohn can only hope he'll find him in his room because the only other key is Newt's and he really doesn't want to have to deal with retrieving it.

He makes his way quickly to the commissary, walking fast and avoiding everyone's eyes just in case they'd heard. It's late, so the halls are less crowded and he manages to avoid most people as he heads to the end of the room and grabs two boxes of leftovers from the Bain Marie. The trip back is quicker; he jogs in places to hurry things up and soon he's standing outside his own door, breathing a sigh of relief as it swings open when he turns the wheel.

Hermann's sitting on the edge of the bed holding his head in his hands, laptop power cord tangled around his feet and Mendelssohn pushes the door shut and leans against it.

"You okay?" He asks quietly and Hermann doesn't even look up.

"No," Hermann says and continues staring at the floor.

"They only had the lo mein left," Mendelssohn says and walks over to his desk, rummaging in the drawer for some clean cutlery before he sits on the bed, holding out one of the boxes.

"How can you eat at a time like this? How are you so _calm_?" Hermann asks staring at Mendelssohn like he's lost his mind.

"I'm not. I'm just... dealing with it the same way I deal with all my other big problems," he says, putting the container and a fork down beside Hermann before opening his own. "By which I mean I'm actively _not_ dealing with it."

"Stop being so glib. You can't-"

"I can do whatever the fuck I want," Mendelssohn snaps as he jabs his fork into the noodles, aiming for a piece of shrimp. He stabs a few more times and then forces himself to stop, closing his eyes and grinding his teeth together as he tries to rein himself in. "I just- I _can't_ deal with- with what _might_ happen. It's not an option I can consider. Eat something." 

"I- I'm not hungry right now," Hermann says as he reaches down to start untangling the power cable.

"You haven't had anything since yesterday," Mendelssohn says, staring at the wall in front of him as he shoves a forkful in his mouth. Hermann doesn't respond in the time it takes for him to chew and swallow and he huffs in irritation. "You're not going to be any good to anyone if you're tired and worn out and cranky and developing a fucking ulcer. _Eat something_."

"I will be _fine_ ," Hermann grinds out, tugging and pulling on the cords and just making a bigger knot.

"God-fucking-damnit, Hermann." Mendelssohn shoves his food on the desk and grabs the cable off him, tugging the knots loose and straightening out the cord as he speaks. "Everything that's going on up there? In Medical? That's _completely_ outside my areas of expertise. I can _do_ nothing. I can _add_ nothing. You? Here? Now? I can make sure _you_ eat. I can make sure _you_ don't fall apart. Because if I stop focusing on _you_ , I'll start thinking about _me_ and I don't want to _do_ that." He stomps over to the end of the bed and leans down to plug the cord in. When he stands he finds himself staring down at Hermann at a loss. "If I was standing beside you today, it'd... it'd be me up there. And I'd want you to eat."

Hermann won't meet his eye, stares down at the power cord breathing slowly and evenly until he reaches to the side and picks up the container and opens it. He sticks his fork in and picks out a piece of carrot, placing it on his tongue and chewing slowly. Mendelssohn breathes a sigh of relief and sits beside him again, picking up his food and shoving a forkful in his mouth, chewing despondently.

"It makes me feel ill," Hermann says quietly before forcing himself to swallow, and out of the corner of his eye Mendelssohn can see that it's a struggle. "Knowing that he's up there because-... because of me. And I'm sitting here eating leftover lo mein and struggling to plug my laptop in and soon I'm going to have to push him from my thoughts and focus on work and- what kind of person does that? What kind of person does their best to _forget_ that the person who _saved his life_ is lying in a bed in an empty room and he- he might not-" Hermann's choking up and Mendelssohn stretches over to squeeze his knee.

"A good one." He gives Hermann a sad smile and shuffles closer to him until they're pressed together along their sides. "At the risk of sounding like a movie from the turn of the century that I fell asleep halfway through... You're going to pay it forward. You're going to help fix Shaolin Brave and that's going to help save _millions_ of lives. He's okay for now. He's being watched closely and they're going to take good care of him. I can tell you for a _fact_ that he woul- _will_ not judge you for this. Just eat a little more, then you can work."

"You'll allow it?" Hermann says drily and takes a bigger forkful, though chewing and swallowing look no less difficult than before.

"Yeah," Mendelssohn says softly. "And I'll be here if you need me."

He closes his container and puts it on the desk, maybe he'll eat it for breakfast, before squeezing Hermann's knee again and standing. 

He brushes his teeth and doesn't look in the mirror, considers hanging a towel over it but doesn't want to risk Hermann seeing what he's done. Stripping down to his boxers, he takes his clothes out to shove them on top of the pile and pull on a t-shirt. Hermann's laying on the bed, staring at the laptop. When Mendelssohn peeks in to his container, there's a third gone.

"Does it meet your standards?" Hermann asks archly as Mendelssohn flops down on the other side of the bed and grabs his book.

"It'll do," he says with a shrug and flips open to his last page and tries to focus.

His eyes are burning by the time he's read ten pages, mind not calm enough to focus and make sense of what he's seeing. When he looks at the clock, he sees it's been forty-five minutes and the fact that it took him that long makes him cringe. He looks over his shoulder and watches Hermann work for a while, wholly intent on the screen, lips moving as he reads, before he dogears the page and sets it on the nightstand. Rolling over, he lifts Hermann's arm and slides in underneath, resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his middle.

"I'm working, Mendelssohn," Hermann says distantly, not looking away as he keeps reading the code, finger tapping the down arrow at regular intervals.

"You're not using this arm," Mendelssohn says and closes his eyes. "Just tell me if you need me to move." He settles in and focusses on the sound of Hermann breathing, trying to push every other rushing thought out of his mind.

The regular tapping sound stops and after a moment he feels lips pressing against the top of his head and then the tapping resumes and he lets it slowly lull him to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter tonight, but two chapters coming next Tuesday. 
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> Keep reading for warnings. Scroll quickly to avoid spoilers.  
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>  **Warnings:** Continued hospital setting. Also, a description of a mild panic attack: skip the paragraph starting with 'He spends an hour with his back..."
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He wakes to Hermann snoring, laptop still on and screensaver running. He looks up and Hermann's head is tilted at an awkward angle, neck bent and mouth hanging open. He moves away as stealthily as he can and crawls out of bed, lifting the laptop and closing it before putting it on the bedside table. He flicks off the light switch and tries to crawl back into bed as quietly as he left but Hermann snorts and sits up and Mendelssohn has to put a hand on his chest to make him lie back down.

"Shh, go back to sleep," he says and curls back up beside him. "I don't know when you fell asleep, but it's four now. It's just a couple of hours." Hermann feels tense underneath him and Mendelssohn can tell that his mind's racing with self-admonishment and a burning need to find a way to keep working. He squeezes Hermann's middle tightly and presses a kiss to his shoulder. "You'll think better for it. How many times have you said that to me?"

Hermann relaxes slightly and sighs, sliding further down the bed and wrapping himself around Mendelssohn. "Too many."

"Time to take your own advice," he says and Hermann huffs but doesn't respond and soon he can hear his breath evening out.

It's after eight when he wakes next and Hermann's already up and stretching beside the wall. He stretches and scrubs the sleep from his eyes.

"When you go back to your room, pack a bag - everything you'll need to work for the next few days - then bring it over here," he says and grabs the lo mein from the desk, forcing a few mouthfuls down.

"Why?" Hermann asks with a frown.

"The second he's moved to recovery we are setting up shop and we are not leaving until he does," Mendelssohn shrugs and pulls a face at the feeling of sticky sauce coating the fur on his tongue and making his mouth feel thick and gross.

Hermann just looks at him and nods and returns to his stretches.

Mendelssohn showers and by the time he gets out Hermann is gone. He gets dressed and throws together a bag of his own stuff - tablets and a laptop, printouts, a stick of deodorant and a couple of clean shirts - and by the time he's done, Hermann's coming through the door, setting his bag beside Mendelssohn's.

He looks at the clock - it's eight-thirty - and turns to Hermann. "You ready to head up?" 

"No," Hermann says looking past Mendelssohn at their bags on the floor. "I'd much rather this wasn't something we had to do."

"That's the spirit. Deal with things by not dealing with them at all," Mendelssohn says with a bitter smile and Hermann closes his eyes and huffs through his nose, turning his head away in irritation.

"I wish you wouldn't be so- so _flippant_ about this," Hermann says and Mendelssohn sighs. 

"I wish I knew how," he says and takes a step forward, sliding his hands around Hermann's middle and resting his head on Hermann's shoulder. "Who thinks to prepare for something like this? Who thinks that _this_ is something that could happen to them? I can't be serious right now. I was serious about it for _hours_ yesterday and- and it was _awful_. If I go back down there I'm gonna get _stuck_ down there and I don't have a big project to suck me in and keep me sane. I've gotta be _here_ with all the dead ends and the results that all say the same shit and him on the bed hooked up to all those wires and... It's just me. It's- I'm alone in this. I'm-"

"You're not alone," Hermann says and he's wrapping his arms around Mendelssohn and holding him tight. "I meant what I said yesterday; if you need me for _any_ reason, we will find a way. If I'm working: interrupt. It's-"

" _Super_ important and going to save millions of lives. I'm not going to distract you," Mendelssohn says and then Hermann's pulling away and cupping his face and staring down at him seriously.

"Sometimes... the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many," he says, stroking a thumb over his cheek, and Mendelssohn can't help but smile.

"When did you become Kirk?" he asks as Hermann leans down and kisses him softly.

"When it became apparent that you needed someone charming and dashing to sweep you off your feet," Hermann says and Mendelssohn's breath is hitching and he's turning away.

"We should get going. They said nine, we should be there at nine," he says and he's walking towards the door and turning the handle and Hermann's grabbing his shoulder and turning him around and Mendelssohn won't meet his eye.

"What is it? What did I do wrong?" Hermann asks, looking worried and confused and Mendelssohn shrugs his hand off and turns away.

"It's nothing. C'mon, let's go," he turns back to the door but Hermann's putting his hand on it and holding it shut.

"Please? Don't shut me out."

Mendelssohn sighs and rests his head against the door. "Kirk always leaves," he says quietly and then Hermann's pressing up against his back, hands wrapped around his middle, squeezing him tight.

"I am not going _anywhere_. We're in this together," Hermann says firmly, kissing his shoulder and tightening his grip. 

Mendelssohn lets his head thump against the door a few times, feeling like a pathetic crybaby. He pats Hermann's hand and straightens, taking a deep breath. "Sorry, man. I- Sorry. It's- Sorry," he says and brushes at his eyes and when the fuck did that happen?

"It's a stressful time," Hermann says and gives one last squeeze before lowering his hand to the handle and looking at Mendelssohn questioningly. "Are you ready?"

"No," Mendelssohn says with a hiccuping laugh. "The tides turn quickly here, huh? Let's go. Let's- Yeah."

He shuffles back and pulls the door open striding out into the hall and stopping in the middle to wait for Hermann to join him. They head up to Medical in silence.

They're made to wait until exactly nine o'clock, and then they're only allowed ten minutes. Neither can think of anything to say and they spend the entire time staring at Newt, caught in a loop of self-recrimination and guilt.

The nurse ushers them out with a stern yet sympathetic stare and the second they're out the door Mendelssohn turns and points his finger at her.

"We're coming back at lunch. You can't stop us," he says and the nurse nods at him like he's a small child.

"You can come, but the doctor will be the one to decide if you're allowed in," she says and Mendelssohn huffs and storms down the corridor followed by Hermann.

He spends the rest of the morning cleaning out the rat cages and actively not looking at the milking machine. He drapes a towel over it at eleven and ignores the sympathetic look Hermann gives him.

At midday they go back to the ICU and are given two minutes each and Mendelssohn spends fifteen minutes arguing - first with the nurse, then with Dr. Bhakta - about the decreasing times before Hermann leads him away, telling them sternly that they'll be back at six.

The afternoon is dedicated to putting all the music Raoul wanted on a stick before taking it up to the Jaeger bay. 

He spends an hour with his back pressed up against the wall beside the elevator, staring at the spot where Newt got hit - there's not even a sign anything happened - before dragging his gaze up to look at Shaolin Brave. He flinches at every loud noise, the ringing of metal on metal making his heart thump wildly. He eventually grabs a passing engineer and shoves the stick at his chest.

"You know Raoul?" He demands, hands feeling shaky and his skin clammy. "You know Raoul, yeah? Get this to him. Say it's from Geiszler. Thanks, man. Thanks." He throws himself back in the elevator and rides it back down to the bowels of K-Sci with his head pressed against the wall and his eyes squeezed shut.

Hermann finds him in the hall at five-thirty, elbows resting on his knees and fingers clenched in his hair.

"I just got a call. They'll be moving him to recovery at eight," Hermann says, looking down at Mendelssohn with a pinched expression. "They're not going to let us in to see him before that." Mendelssohn nods but doesn't say anything. "What happened?"

Mendelssohn scrubs his hands through his hair before letting his head thump back against the wall. "I... went to the Jaeger bay. I didn't think it- But then- There's no sign it ever- And the _noise_ \- I... I don't even know, man."

Hermann looks like he's been punched in the gut. He slides down the wall to sit beside Mendelssohn, legs jutting out straight into the middle of the corridor. "Possibly not the wisest choice you've made," Hermann says pressing his shoulder up against him. 

"Thanks, man. Really helpful," Mendelssohn says and lets his head hang forward and Hermann reaches over to quickly squeeze his ankle, yanking his hand back as he hears someone coming down the hall.

"I wouldn't have had the courage," he says, looking over at Mendelssohn regretfully. "The thought that I'll be called up there when we find the problem with Shaolin Brave fills me with dread. I've... I've found myself trying to come up with reasons why they don't _need_ me to come. Multiple times."

"Wish I'd had that kinda foresight," Mendelssohn says with a weak smile.

"You look pale. You should go lie down," Hermann says, mouth turned down at the edge with worry.

"I'll be okay. I just need- Fuck, I don't know what I need." Mendelssohn pushes the pads of his fingers up under his glasses and pulls to the side with a frustrated groan.

"Would it change your mind any if I told you I was planning to find an excuse to come see you a few minutes after you leave?" Hermann asks in a quiet tone and Mendelssohn's lips tug up in a smile.

"I think it would, yeah." 

"Help me up," Hermann says and nudges Mendelssohn's shoulder with his own.

Mendelssohn sighs and pushes himself to stand, holding his hand out when he's upright. Hermann takes hold of his wrist and pushes down on his cane until he achieves verticality and brushes down the seat of his trousers.

"I was not built for sitting on floors," he says with a frown and Mendelssohn snorts.

"Or chairs. Benches. Beds." Hermann levels an unimpressed glare at him and Mendelssohn holds his hands out to the sides and shrugs. "I'm just saying sitting's not your forte. Not really mine either, come to think of it. So, hey, we've got that in common."

Hermann closes his eyes and shakes his head despairingly. "Go to your room. I'll be along shortly."

Mendelssohn shrugs and heads down the hall, disappearing into his room and laying down on the bed. Hermann was only half right - lying on his bed is more comfortable, but it doesn't stop his mind racing or the memories of the Jaeger bay from coming back to haunt him. 

It doesn't last for long: five minutes later, Hermann's opening his door and toeing his shoes off, sliding in behind him and pulling him back against his chest. 

He feels like maybe he should say something, but also that maybe he shouldn't. He can't think of anything to say that isn't _I am fucking terrified_ so he clenches his jaw shut and lets himself be held, strangely comforted by the feeling of Hermann's nose pressing against the back of his head, and the sock clad foot rubbing up and down his calf.

They lie there in silence and Mendelssohn imagines a clock ticking endlessly, never tolling a time, just counting out an interminable wait. He's never lived anywhere that had that kind of clock, or at least, never for very long; the cogs and wheels so endlessly fascinating to him that he'd take them apart within days of his dad buying them. He'd put them back together, but they never really worked as well after. It wasn't until college that he managed to do it properly, and by that time he was living by himself and his father had thrown out all the misfits. He'd given that clock to him as a gift on his fiftieth birthday and the weary but proud hug he'd received had been worth all the fuck-ups.

"It's nearly eight," Hermann murmurs into his hair. "We should go up."

"Yeah," Mendelssohn says and rolls over in Hermann's arms. "Thanks for... y'know. Putting up with me and my freakout."

"Not putting up with," Hermann says softly, and kisses Mendelssohn's forehead. "Taking care of."

"Either way," Mendelssohn says, giving Hermann one last squeeze before he pushes himself out of bed and puts on his shoes. "Okay, you got everything you need?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes," Hermann says as he finishes tying his shoes and stands. He looks at Mendelssohn and there's apprehension in his eyes.

"We won't know anything until we get there," Mendelssohn says, as he grabs both their bags and hoists them over his shoulders. "Let's go."

Hermann nods and Mendelssohn walks to the door and then Hermann's spinning him around and kissing him firmly, cupping a cheek and stroking a hand down his hair. "I don't like the thought of you going through this _alone_."

"I won't be alone," Mendelssohn says gently. "You'll be there and Newt will be there and... it is what it is." He shrugs and pulls away. "Let's go."

They make their way as quickly as possible to Medical and arrive just as they're wheeling Newt and the myriad of machines keeping him alive out into the corridor. There's a new head nurse on duty and he puts his hand out to stop them following.

"Newt is being moved to recovery, yes, but that is going to take _time_. We will let you know the _second_ you can go in," he says and then he's following the gurney down the hall and Mendelssohn and Hermann exchange a look and follow. 

It's another twenty-five minutes before the nurse walks out of the room and over to them. "Okay, he's settled in and everything looks good. I can give you half an hour-"

"Nope. Not gonna work for us," Mendelssohn says with a shake of his head. "We respected the whole ICU thing but we're _not leaving now_." He walks past him and into the room, dumping the bags beside the door before pulling up a chair on the far side of the bed and taking Newt's hand.

"Who are we disrupting in doing this?" He hears Hermann say outside the door. "He has a private room. We will be working. _Quietly_. We're _family_."

There's a long period of silence before he hears the nurse huff. " _Fine_. But I'm gonna lay out a few ground rules," he says and enters the room. "You listening Dr. Geiszler?"

"I'm all ears," Mendelssohn says, not looking away from Newt's face. 

"Good. If there is a medical issue, you will _leave the room_. No questions. If you interfere with any nurses or doctors doing their jobs, you will be _made to leave the room_. If you become disruptive to any of the other patients, you will be _banned from the room_. Do not _lean on_ the bed. Do not _lie on_ the bed. Do not _put your feet on_ the bed. Do I make myself clear?" He says and he's staring intently at Mendelssohn who just nods and waves a hand. "Good. Enjoy sleeping in those chairs."

Hermann enters and pulls a chair over to the other side of the bed, taking Newt's hand and pressing his forehead to the back of it.

They sit in silence for a long time, listening to the beeps and hum of the equipment and the slow, steady, and repetitive sound of the pump forcing Newt to keep breathing. Mendelssohn's staring at Newt's face, worrying at his thumbnail with his teeth, and trying to contain the mental dissonance - a dissonance he hasn't felt in weeks - at seeing his own face, pale and sallow, lying in that hospital bed. One foot and it would be him lying there - _is_ him lying there. One foot.

Would he have even been in the Jaeger bay at that exact point if the split hadn't happened? Would Hermann? Would it have all happened exactly the same way but without anyone to sit with him while he sleeps?

"I sometimes wonder," Hermann says, sitting up and stretching in his chair. "Whether I would be here, now, holding vigil, if we had never gotten our act together."

"I was wondering if we would be here at all," Mendelssohn says with a twist of his lips, squeezing Newt's hand tighter. They'd never held hands before and he thinks this is a shitty way to start.

"That's also a valid point," Hermann says with a sigh and stands, walking over to the door and looking down at his bag.

"Don't," Mendelssohn says and gets up, ushering Hermann out of the way so he can pick up his bag and pull out his laptop and power cable. He hands the laptop to Hermann and unravels the power cable, getting down on his knees to plug it in. Handing the other end of the cable to Hermann, he moves Hermann's bag to beside his chair and takes his own to the other side of the room. He looks through all the things he brought and can't bring himself to even think about focussing on work right now. He looks at Newt on the bed and a frisson of low-grade terror runs up his spine. "We should eat. I'm gonna go get us something. You forget anything when you packed?"

"I thought you said neither of us would leave?" Hermann says with a frown, looking up from his laptop's startup screen.

"Do you see food or a bathroom in here? We're making sure he's not alone when he wakes up, not staging a sit-in," Mendelssohn says not meeting Hermann's eyes and walks over to the door. "Only one of us can leave the room at a time. I won't be gone long. Did you forget anything?"

"No, no, I'm okay," Hermann says distantly, looking at Mendelssohn with a slightly lost expression. 

Mendelssohn nods, opens his mouth to say something and then snaps it shut before walking out the door without a word.

He walks blindly through the halls, barely aware enough to prevent any collisions and when he reaches the commissary he turns suddenly and keeps walking until he finds himself outside, gripping the railing and looking down at the helipad. It's quiet at this time of night. There's no flights scheduled until later and the helicopters are silent in their pools of yellow light, a light mist filtering through and making them hazy.

He stares out over the ocean - that used to bring a simultaneous stab of fear and thrill of excitement but now it's overwhelmed by the ambivalent discomfort that's settled in the back of his throat. He'd never thought he'd find anything more terrifying than gigantic monsters rising from the oceans. There's a cough behind him and he glances over his shoulder and sees a single red glowing point in the dark by the overhang. He turns back to stare over the ocean once more and hears footsteps ringing through the metal.

"It's just the occasional one. Stress relief," Tendo says and rests his elbows on the railing beside Mendelssohn. "I heard what happened. Couldn't get out of LOCCENT to see him and then when I could, they wouldn't let me in. How you holding up?"

"Fine." Mendelssohn shrugs. "Well, no, not fine, but- You were always better friends with him, man, you don't have to do this."

"Hey, woah, no," Tendo says straightening to point a finger at Mendelssohn. "First up, you both kept telling me you're _exactly_ the same, so that's how it is. Second, you're both my friends, so if I can't talk to him-"

"I'll do?" Mendelssohn huffs and pushes away from the railing only to have Tendo grab him by the shoulder and stop him from walking inside.

"Putting words in my mouth, man. Not cool," Tendo says giving Mendelssohn an unimpressed look. "I'm saying with him out of action, I'm gonna support you. Because you're my friend. My main man Mend, you dig?"

Mendelssohn hangs his head, a small smile on his face. "I dig."

"Good. Now tell Uncle Tendo all about it." Tendo turns and rests his elbows on the railing again, jerking his head for Mendelssohn to come back.

"I just... I don't even know, man," Mendelssohn says s he mirrors Tendo's position. "You ever hear of people having out of body experiences? They say they're looking down at themselves in the hospital bed but they don't feel scared?"

"Shit, man," Tendo says with a shake of his head. "You're getting all of that and then some."

"Plus it's terrifying. I kind of _wish_ I was calm about it." Mendelssohn says and the mist has coated his glasses to the point where the water is beading and running down the lens. He shakes his head and sighs. He clasps his hands together so he doesn't take them off and drop them accidentally. "They're saying he might not wake up."

Tendo goes still and doesn't look at him.

"I thought- I thought if me and Hermann just camped out in his room we'd be able to make it okay. That if one of us was there he'd wake up and get better and everything would be fine. But I barely lasted half an hour before I had to get out. What if-" he cuts himself off with a gasp and shakes his head. There's a part of him that doesn't even want to give voice to that thought. But there's an even larger part baying for an answer. "What if it's true? What if we wait and wait and wait and it never happens? When do we decide that it's time to leave? A week? A month? Two? What if I've just set us both up for the worst kind of disappointment possible?"

"Hey, hey," Tendo says and leans to the side so he can squeeze Mendelssohn's shoulder. "It's been a day. I know what it's like to get caught up in shit and not be able to see a way out but- and I'm not saying your feelings are wrong or anything - but it is way too early to be thinking like that, man. You don't have to be all sunshine and roses or anything but... just give it a little time before you start the downward spiral."

"I _know_ , man. You think I don't know?" Mendelssohn says and pushes off from the railing, turning to pace the length of the balcony. "You think I've got a whole lot of experience with being a pessimist? Dude, I'm _covered_ in the monsters that are trying to kill us because if I have even the _tiniest_ bit of their strength and tenacity, I might be able to _beat them_. But now... I've got front row seats to my own mortality. I'm him and he's me and he might die so _I_ might die and it's all because the things that are supposed to _save us_ tried to _kill him_. What am I supposed to do with that? What- What even is that? Is it a _sign_? Am I being told that _we're never going to stop them_? What-"

"Dude, _dude_ , it was an accident. Nothing more. Wrong place at the wrong time. God doesn't work like that, man," Tendo says grabbing onto Mendelssohn's shoulders and holding him still so he can look him in the eye. "He's still alive. There's still hope."

"I know _that_ , too," Mendelssohn says and shoves Tendo's hands off his shoulders scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. "If Newt wasn't lying there, it'd be _Hermann_ and it'd be so much fucking worse. I just- If I wish it had never happened to Newt, Hermann gets hurt. If I wish the split had never happened, Hermann _still_ gets hurt because I wouldn't have had any reason to be up there. If I wish I'd been standing next to Hermann, _I_ get hurt. These choices _suck_."

"They really do," Tendo says giving Mendelssohn a sympathetic look. "But you're forgetting a few things: you're okay, Hermann's okay. Maybe you don't consider that to be the best consolation prize, but the worst-case scenario for today wasn't any of the things you mentioned. I saw the incident report: that sheet was enough to take out _all_ of you. But you're here and you _get to_ worry your brain out about Newt and that's something _.“_

Mendelssohn nods but feels only the tiniest bit comforted by the thought. "Yeah, I- Yeah. I guess," he says, rubbing his hand over his neck and... he really doesn't want to talk anymore. He doesn't want to talk and he doesn't want to feel and he doesn't want to _think_. "I've... I gotta get back. Told Hermann I was getting food, not having an existential crisis." He laughs a little awkwardly and turns to head back into the Shatterdome, looking over his shoulder as he goes. "You should come by. Tomorrow. The nurse on now is kind of a hardass. Bring dinner."

He pushes through the door without waiting for a reply and hightails it back to the commissary. The leftover boxes are stacked high and he gets his choice of the offerings. He grabs two boxes - spaghetti, and chicken and broccoli - and cutlery and heads to Medical. He walks into Newt's room, dumps the boxes on the rolling table and walks straight back out. When he returns five minutes later, he's pushing a folding cot on wheels and carrying a pillow. The nurse glares at him from the nurse's station, but he pretends he doesn't see as he walks into the room.

"Where did you get that? Why are you damp?" Hermann says with a frown as Mendelssohn starts setting the cot up by the wall. 

"Closet. Existential crisis," Mendelssohn says and he pulls open the legs and pushes the mattress apart until it's lying flat. "You're not sleeping in that chair. This wasn't being used. Figured why not."

"Existential crisis?" Hermann says with alarm, putting the laptop on the table and making his way quickly to shut the door and turn the blinds.

"Tendo talked me down-"

"He _what?!_ " Hermann hisses with a quick glance at the bed as though the noise might wake Newt.

"Not like that. I'm okay. I just-" Mendelssohn's shoulder's slump and he gestures weakly at the bed. "That's _me_."

"Oh, Mendelssohn," Hermann says and takes a tentative step forward, putting a hand on Mendelssohn's shoulder. He looks over his shoulder at the door for a moment before shaking his head and pulling Mendelssohn to him. "There's little I can say to take away any of your pain or confusion or- or anything... But if that's you on the bed, then you're a _hero_. That's in you, too. Yes, he is injured. Yes, the current situation is... worrisome. But what saved my life today is something inherent in _you_ , and I will be forever grateful that it's there."

"It was instinct. It wasn't a _choice_ -" Mendelssohn starts and Hermann squeezes him tighter.

"You could have recoiled. You could have frozen. Just because the choice wasn't conscious doesn't mean it wasn't made," Hermann says and kisses the side of Mendelssohn's head. 

Mendelssohn stands still and lets himself be held until he can't stand it any more and pulls away. "Food's getting cold," he says wiping his hands off and avoiding Hermann's eye. "We should eat."

Hermann doesn't look happy at the change of topic, but sits in his chair and pulls over one of the boxes, poking at his food as he continues to go through the code.

When they've had as much as they can stomach, Mendelssohn stands and stretches, pulling his shirt off and hanging it over the back of his chair to dry. He rummages through his bag and grabs a t-shirt, slipping it on before grabbing the spare blanket and putting it over the cot. "We'll sleep in shifts. I'll go first. I'll make you get a couple of hours when I wake up - don't argue."

"I wasn't going to," Hermann says quietly and watches as Mendelssohn climbs into the cot and rolls over. 

Mendelssohn pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and stares at the wall. It's hours before he sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's your first time reading Divergent Paths, click next chapter and keep going.
> 
> If you're doing a re-read with the alternate ending, this is where your path diverges (ha!). Jump to [Paths Diverged](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4323150) to continue the story.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of the tags on this fic indicates a trigger for you, I sincerely suggest you read the warnings located in the [end notes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1943418/chapters/5357525#chapter_18_endnotes).
> 
> If you're okay with the tags and don't want spoilers, keep reading.
> 
> If I've missed anything you feel needs a tag, let me know.
> 
> 12 July, 2015 - Alternate Ending has begun posting under [Paths Diverged](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4323150). If this is your first time reading, it's recommended that you finish this version and _then_ move on to the unicorn chaser.

The next week passes with disheartening repetition: Sleep, wake, wait. Sleep, wake, wait.

Mendelssohn leaves for an hour every morning to get breakfast and check on the rats. (On the first morning he's gone for three hours. He doesn't tell Hermann that he'd found a fresh, shiny and undented piece of metal outside the lab when he'd arrived and had sat staring at it, heart filled with terror. It took him two hours to work up the courage to move it into the back of his alcove and cover it in a tarp.)

Tendo brings them dinner most nights. Nobody mentions how they all watch Mendelssohn with worry.

Katz and Dr. Bhakta make visits twice a day like clockwork, both counselling Hermann and Mendelssohn to be warily hopeful. 

They extubate Newt on the second day and Mendelssohn almost misses the slow rhythm of the pump.

The only times Hermann leaves the room are for bathroom breaks, dressing changes and three times to shower.

Mendelssohn gets quieter.

On the eighth day, Hermann is dozing behind his laptop and Mendelssohn's glaring at an email from Griggson when they hear a cough.

"Told you-" Newt croaks and then coughs and grimaces and both Hermann and Mendelssohn are on their feet in a flash, both yelling for the doctor.

Hermann puts a straw in a glass of water and holds it to Newt's face. "Don't swallow; you're nil-by-mouth. That's enough. That's enough."

"Told you bed spoons bleed a spot," Newt says with a tired smile and Hermann and Mendelssohn exchange a look.

"What?" Hermann says clutching Newt's hand tight enough to make the tips of his fingers turn red.

"I'm fine. You were worried for frothing." Newt says with a slow smile and Mendelssohn sincerely hopes it's the morphine messing him up.

"Newt," Mendelssohn says putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Now's _really_ not the time to fuck with us for shits and giggles, okay man?"

"What's... what's your protium? 'm not fucking with you. Too tired... Hurts... What happened?" Newt's blinking slowly and he seems to be having trouble focussing on anything. 

Mendelssohn feels a stab of fear in his heart.

"What do you remember?" Hermann asks, lips drawn in a thin line, a worried wrinkle marring his brow.

"We were... in the Sega fray... Something fell? Pushed German... Hit my bed." He swallows and it looks painful. "Can I get some core blotter?

"Newton, I want you to listen to me very carefully," Hermann says, touching Newt's chin lightly to direct his face and try and get him to focus. "Can you understand us?" 

Newt frowns and swallows. "'Course," he says and then he's gasping and trying to raise his hand. Hermann has to hold onto it so he doesn't try and press against his stitches or the ostomy pouch.

"Glad to see you've decided to join us," Katz says with a smile as she jogs into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Bed hurts. Chain in my huts. German won't give me core blotter," Newt says, face twisting into a grimacing pout. 

"That was unexpected," Katz says, smile sliding off her face as she moves closer to the bed.

Hermann shuffles out of the way and takes up a position further down the bed, keeping a tight hold on Newt's hand. "He says he can understand us."

"Can you understand him?" Katz asks as she pulls a penlight out of her pocket.

"Sort of?" Mendelssohn says absently stroking Newt's arm for comfort. "It kind of makes sense in context? Well, some of it. German's definitely Hermann. Bed is head; he's said that a few times now. Sega fray is probably Jaeger bay. What's going on with him? Should we be writing these down?"

"Give me some time, Mendelssohn," Katz says, quietly admonishing, and leans down to look at Newt's face, holding up the penlight. "Newt? I'm just going to give you a quick check up, okay? There'll be a bright light for a little while. Can you tell me what you remember about the accident?"

"Talking 'bout me like I'm not here," Newt grumbles and looks towards the nightstand. "Can I get some core blotter first? My moat's dry." 

Katz, Hermann and Mendelssohn look amongst each other blankly until Hermann follow's Newt's eyeline and reaches for the cup. "More water?"

"Stop being weird, ties," Newt says as he takes the straw into his mouth and sucks gratefully. He whimpers as the cup's pulled away but settles quickly.

"Is your... moat... feeling better?" Katz asks and Newt frowns at her in bleary confusion.

"I don't have a stoat." 

"Okay, that's significant. Maybe we should be getting these down," Katz says and looks at Mendelssohn who grabs a tablet and opens a new document. "Okay, back on track. Can you tell me about the day of the accident?"

"Already told German and Bend," Newt says and flinches as Katz flashes the light in his eye.

"I wasn't here. Can you tell me?" She asks holding his head still with the palm of her hand as she checks his pupillary responses.

"Me and... me and Bend were getting pedal from the Sega fray. German was there talking to a pioneer. Something fell and it- it was gonna hit German. Pushed him out of the day. Hit my bed. Now'm here." He pulls a face as he finishes and tries to curl up. "Hurts."

"We're going to need you to stay still, okay? Can you tell me where the pain is?" Katz says and slips the penlight back in her pocket.

"Already did," Newt glares weakly. "My huts. Feels... feels tight."

"Before I do, can you do me a favor? I know you probably really don't want to do this, but I need you to give me a big smile. I want to see teeth."

Newt grimaces but stretches his lips wide and even and Katz pats his wrist.

"Thank you, Newt. You can stop now," She says and turns to look at the IV and the attached PCA dispenser before pressing a button. Reaching behind it she pulls out a hand-held button and places it on the bed. "Now that you're awake, this button will let you get your pain medication when you need it. It's morphine and it'll only give you one dose in an allotted period, so you can't OD, but if the pain gets too much, it's there. Go ahead, press it now."

Hermann untangles his hand from Newt's and places the button in his grasp. Newt wraps his hand around it and squeezes and after a moment, he relaxes, all the line's fading from his face and a small blissed out smile tugging at his lips.

"That's some good ship, lazy," Newt says and lets his head roll so he's staring at the ceiling.

"You feeling good enough to talk now?" Katz asks and Newt just grins, eyes glassy. "Maybe we should have waited a little while... Okay, you may have worked out that there's something not quite right going on. So, we're just going to go through a few short tests. I'm going to say some words and I want you to repeat them back to me, okay?" Newt nods slowly and Katz looks at Mendelssohn. "You ready?"

Mendelssohn sets his hands over the tablet keyboard and nods.

"Okay, here we go. Baby?"  
"Maybe."  
"Freight?"  
"Wait."  
"Height?"  
"White."  
"Jump?"  
"Jump."  
"Task?"  
"Mask."  
"Come?"  
"Come."  
"Going?"  
"Showing."  
"Wise?"  
"Wise."  
"Start?"  
"Start."

"Okay, good. Did you get all that?" She says and looks at Mendelssohn.

"Yeah. Recording, too," he says holding up his digital recorder.

"Newt, you still with us?" She asks and Newt blinks at her slowly.

"I'm good. I am _so_ good, right now," Newt says with a beatific smile.

"Okay, I want you to look at everyone in the room and say their names," Katz says and takes a step back so he can see Hermann.

"You're Hats. Proctor..." Newt pauses and seems to struggle for a moment before he shakes his head and continues. "Proctor Cleverly Hats. That's German. Sorry, sorry, Proctor... Uh... Proctor Godlove." He rolls his head to the side to look at Mendelssohn and frowns. "And you're... you're... You're Bend. Bend... Bend Goatherder. Hey, teddy."

"Teddy?" Mendelssohn blurts staring at Newt in confusion.

" _No_ , not steady. You're my teddy. We're teds. You'n'me'n'Kendo best teds," Newt says patting at Mendelssohn's side. His smile slowly fades to an expression that's lost and a little sad. "Oh. You can't understand me? Am I saying my birds wrong?"

"There's a little bit of confusion, yeah," Mendelssohn says and squeezes Newt's hand.

"I just need you to do one more thing for me, okay, Newt?" Katz says and touches his shoulder to get Newt's attention back. "It's not because I don't believe you, but I need you to tell me what happened in the Jaeger bay one more time."

"We... we were talking to... to Abdul... in the Sega fray. He was gonna give us some pedal if we gave him some tunic. German was... he was talking to a pioneer about lode for Violin Gave and something fell... It was gonna hit him so I pushed him. Hit my bed and now'm here. Was that it? Is it the bed spoon? Does... does my... crane not work right anymore? Am I gonna be like this forever?"

"Shh, Newt, don't panic," Katz says. "At this stage, there's no way of knowing if this is permanent. It seems like a form of aphasia; expressive rather than receptive as you can still understand us. It's caused by damage to a part of the brain called Broca's area, which is where speech originates. It could have been from the bump to the head, or during surgery-"

"I was in _perjury_?" Newt says wide-eyed and Katz looks at Hermann and Mendelssohn blankly.

"It really should have been obvious that he didn't know," Katz says with a shake of her head, and looks down at Newt. "Newt, the accident in the Jaeger bay wasn't you hitting your head. The falling metal sheet clipped your side; did some damage to your large intestine and your liver. We operated for eight hours. You've been unconscious for eight days."

"Fate blaze?" Newt says looking between Hermann and Mendelssohn. "I've been asleep for fate blaze?"

"We've been here for seven," Hermann says softly, cupping his hand around the back of Newt's.

"We would have been here for the full eight, but they'd only let us into ICU for a few minutes at a time," Mendelssohn says and Newt's face slips into a fond smile.

"You ties are the... are the west. Staying with me... Get down here. Troupe bug."

"Troupe... bug?" Hermann says with a confused frown, looking at Mendelssohn for enlightenment.

"Stoop shrug?" Newt says with a frown before his eyes widen and he looks at them with horrible realisation. "Oh my flood. That's what I found like to you?"

"It's okay, Newt. We're working it out," Hermann says and Newt shakes his head and he's pulling his hands away from Hermann and Mendelssohn.

"No, no, no," Newt says in drug-addled, lethargic agitation. "I'm saying the wrong birds and you don't- you don't understand me. I can't _communicate_. How'm I s'posed to... I can't- I can't talk to you."

"Hey, stop. Stop it, man," Mendelssohn says, grabbing Newt's hands and holding them in one of his as he leans in close to place his palm along side Newt's face and direct his focus. "We're working on it. Okay? It's been half an hour but we're getting there already. We can work this out. We can figure out a workaround. It wouldn't be the first time. Remember third grade? Remember?"

Newt stops shaking his head and frowns. "That was different. We-"

"It's _not_ , man. It's not different at _all_ ," Mendelssohn cuts him off. "It took us a while but we figured it out. We got there and now look at us. We're fucking _awesome_. This'll be a piece of cake."

Newt's staring up at Mendelssohn and there's a worried look in his eyes but he's nodding slowly and shaking Mendelssohn's hand off so he can clasp it between his own. "We can do this?"

"We totally can," Mendelssohn says squeezing Newt's hand and smiling down at him. "Group hug? Was that what you were trying to say?"

Newt sighs. "Yeah."

"We're not allowed to lean on the bed, but we can improvise," Mendelssohn says and looks over at Hermann, waving a hand to get him to come closer. "Can you bend enough to put your head on the pillow?"

"I will _make myself_ bend," Hermann says with determination, walking to the end of the bed and grasping the headboard so he can lean down, resting his head awkwardly on the pillow and placing his other hand in the middle of Newt's chest.

Mendelssohn follows suit, placing his hand beside Hermann's.

"We've been so worried," Hermann says quietly and Newt turns to look at him. "Watching you lying here... all I wanted was for you to come back to us." He strokes his thumb over Newt's chest and moves a little closer to give him a soft kiss.

Newt sighs into the kiss and then rolls back, eyes shifting between Katz and Hermann until he has to squeeze them shut.

"It's okay," Hermann says quietly. "She knows about us." Hermann says quietly and Newt reels, head rolling around to stare at Mendelssohn with his jaw hanging open and Mendelssohn huffs and shakes his head and straightens.

"Apparently there's only room in this group hug for two," he says with a roll of his eyes and pulls his chair over with his foot.

"Before you sit," Katz interjects, looking at Mendelssohn sympathetically. "I need to do a dressing check and go over some things with Newt. Would you guys mind stepping out?"

Mendelssohn can't even bring himself to pretend to be grateful. He sighs, pats Newt's ankle under the blanket and walks out the door, leaning on the wall across the hall as he waits for Hermann. 

"You couldn't have waited until Katz was gone?" Mendelssohn hisses as the door shuts behind Hermann. 

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," Hermann says quietly as he leans beside Mendelssohn.

"Now she's going to give me sympathy eyes for _eternity_." Mendelssohn thumps his head back against the wall a few times.

"We can't keep it a secret for eternity," Hermann says and Mendelssohn turns an unimpressed stare on him.

"So exchange sympathy for betrayal and you take away the one doctor who treats me like I'm human and not just an accident prone fuck-up," Mendelssohn says and pushes off the wall to pace down the hall.

"We can make this right-"

"Save it, Hermann," Mendelssohn says scrubbing a hand over his face. "We're screwed, no matter what we do."

Hermann stares at the floor, gripping the handle of his cane tightly and they spend the rest of the wait in silence.

"He fell asleep during the examination," Katz says quietly shutting the door as she leaves the room. "Kind of surprised he lasted this long, to be honest. But the prognosis is good at this stage. He's healing well, there's no sign of infection. The aphasia is worrying - I'm going to look into that - but he should be awake more often now and he'll need the morphine less as time goes on. "

"Thank you, Doctor," Hermann says as he straightens and Beverley raises an eyebrow at him.

"You're welcome, _Dr. Gottlieb_ ," she says and then turns to Mendelssohn.

"Can you come and see me later; there's something I want to try out but I need to check some things first," she asks and the sympathy is strong.

"Any time?" Mendelssohn asks and she gives an ambiguous shrug.

"Around six? Bring something to work on. It might take a while," she says and then walks off down the hall.

Mendelssohn and Hermann re-enter the room and take up their regular places, staring at Newt in silence as a strange tension settles over them.

Newt wakes again a couple of hours later, grimacing in pain and Hermann fumbles to get the button into Newt's hand. He settles after a moment, face resuming its blissful smile as he relaxes.

Mendelssohn's on his feet, brushing his fingers through Newt's hair as he stares down at him. "You fell asleep, man. We didn't get a chance to tell you," he says softly as Newt tries to focus on him. "She knows about you and Hermann, not about the three of us. They weren't going to let him in, I had to do something."

"What?" Newt asks in confusion and Mendelssohn stills.

"Are you asking because you were sleepy last time you were awake? Or because you legitimately don't remember waking up? Do you remember being awake before? Fuck, you better not have that amnesia thing like in Memen-"

"I 'member," Newt says swatting weakly at Mendelssohn's side. "I wanna know why you only told her about me'n German."

"Dude," Mendelssohn says with a glare. "You had regular freak outs about it _before_ you were lying in a hospital bed. I didn't think you needed the added _stress_."

"But... but now it's like me'n German are perks who don't scare about you," Newt says sadly and Mendelssohn lets out a frustrated noise and kisses Newt firmly.

"Everybody needs to stop thinking they know what I can handle," Mendelssohn says as he pulls back. "I'm not hooked up to a morphine drip _and_ I'm considered family. Neither of you assholes get a say in this."

"Shhh," Newt says, patting Mendelssohn's hand awkwardly. "If you're gonna be angry, be angry _quietly_." He raises his hand and points at his head with loose fingers. "Hurts."

"How bad is it? Do you want me to get a doctor?" Mendelssohn asks and presses his palm to Newt's forehead; he doesn't know why, his parents used to do it, but he's never really been in a position to care for someone himself. He knows the average human body temperature is ninety-eight point six, but he doesn't know what that feels like against the palm of a hand.

"Sleepy," Newt says petulantly, rolling his head to get Mendelssohn's hand off him.

"We'll let you get back to it. Just let us know if you want us to get a doctor, okay?" Mendelssohn says and Newt nods, letting his eyes drift closed.

"Mmm'kay," he murmurs as he nestles his cheek into the pillow. "Dove you."

Mendelssohn stops, hovering in the air above his chair as he stares at Newt for a moment before looking over at Hermann. " Did he just- Was that the morphine talking?" He asks, confused and a little stunned and Hermann just shakes his head, staring at Newt wide-eyed. "Was he talking to me or you?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Hermann says a little bewildered and then directs his gaze back to his laptop. "We'll have to ask him next time he wakes."

Mendelssohn slumps into the chair and frowns at Newt. There's a part of him that's pissed that he could drop a bombshell like that and then just fall asleep, and another that feels vindicated; he _knew_ why Newt hadn't wanted to have that talk. He _knew_ it. He _felt_ it.

He picks up his tablet and stares at it blankly before shoving it back down the side of the chair. Planting his elbow on the armrest, he rests his head in his hand and stares at Newt, waiting for him to wake up so he can answer some long overdue questions.

Mendelssohn slouches down in his chair and lets himself doze, hand loosely clasping Newt's on the bed. He drifts in and out of consciousness and he's been forcing himself to focus on Newt for so long that he hadn't realised how tired he is. The exhaustion runs deep, sinking into his bones, and now that he's letting himself relax it's weighing him down and pulling him under.

"Newton? Newton! _Newton, wake up!_ " 

Mendelssohn can hear Hermann shouting and there's a constant high-pitched beep. He's dragging himself back, forcing his eyes to open and then he's staring uncomprehendingly at Hermann, standing over Newt on the bed shaking him by the shoulders. A cold stab of fear hits him in the heart and then he's out of his chair so fast it falls to the ground.

" _No!_ " He's yelling and pushing at Newt's shoulder. "NURSE! WE NEED HELP IN HERE! C'mon, Newt! You don't get to fucking do this! Wake up!" 

A group of people rushes in and they're pushing past and calling out readings and someone takes him by the shoulders and physically moves him out of the way. He stumbles backwards until he hits the wall, staring at the rush of activity with growing dread. He feels Hermann beside him and neither of them can speak.

Katz rushes in and pushes in close to the bed to assess the situation. After a moment of being updated she looks up and points over at Mendelssohn and Hermann. "I need those two out of here. _Now_. Orderly!"

"You can't make us leave! We're st-" Mendelssohn yells but the orderly is herding them out of the room and closing the door behind him, standing in front of it and looking straight ahead. 

"Calm down, Mendelssohn," Hermann says shakily, looking pale and nauseous. "Let them do their jobs."

"How are you so fucking calm right now?!" Mendelssohn spits glaring at Hermann.

"I am the very definition of _not_ calm," Hermann says as he straightens and levels a stony gaze at Mendelssohn. "You need to stop shouting and let them _save him_. Think about someone else for _once_ in your miserable life."

"Think about- Oh that's fucking _rich_ ," Mendelssohn says incredulously. "Who's been taking care of _you_ for the past fucking week? Who made sure that you ate and slept and stretched and could fucking work? Who worked out a way for them to let you in the fucking _room_? Huh? Who was I thinking of then? _You_ , you ungrateful shit. It's _me_ lying on that fucking bed right now and you want me to calm the fuck down? I'm fucking d-... I'm... He's d-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off abruptly, a cold flush rushing over his skin as a heavy weight falls to the pit of his stomach and then Hermann's there and pulling him close, whispering apology into his hair as Mendelssohn stares over his shoulder. His breaths come in shuddering gasps and his mind's gone blank except for the image of Newt on the bed and the heart monitor flatlining and his hands are curling into Hermann's blazer, gripping the material tightly, and he can't; he can't deal with this. He can't _do_ this. "Stop. Hermann, _stop_. I can't- This is- He can't do this to us. He c- He's not-"

Hermann's arms tighten around him but he doesn't say anything. Every breath feels like a hacksaw in his throat, tight and sharp and fast and he's not getting enough oxygen and he's getting to much oxygen and the room is closing in on him and everything's too close Hermann's too close and he's pushing away, hands on Hermann's chest as he stumbles toward the wall. He braces himself with his elbows and his head's hanging down and he can feel his fingernails dragging against the wall and the pain's enough to distract him from the white cold fire in his throat. Hermann's hand is on his back and he's shaking it off - can't stand the touch, can't stand the feel of his own skin and then he's heaving and it's dry but his stomach's tight and lurching and his back is arching and everything in him is rebelling and he feels like he's going to turn inside out. 

He pushes away from the wall, rolling around until his back's pressed against it and he's staring at the ceiling. He's holding his stomach and he's not completely sure that he's not going to suddenly lurch forward and spill his guts onto the floor. Hermann's talking but he can't hear him. He's sliding down the wall and he's exhausted and his breath's slowing to a shuddering, hiccupping repetition but it's even and vaguely under control and his legs are splayed at awkward angles but he can't bring himself to do anything about it. He's closing his eyes and he can't focus and then he's staring at the floor and his mind's full of everything and nothing and his world's narrowed down to a tiny speck on the grey laminate because that's all he can handle right now.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, but he slowly becomes aware that he's not shaking anymore and that Hermann's standing half a foot away, hand hanging loosely by his side, and Mendelssohn knows that all he has to do is reach up and squeeze it and Hermann will squeeze back and everything won't be okay, but it might feel manageable. 

He doesn't have the energy to raise his hand that high - everything hurts, his joints ache, muscles wound tight - he flops his hand to the side and grasps Hermann's ankle, fingers twisting in the soft argyle and Hermann's hand disappears from his periphery. He feels Hermann's fingers ghosting over the tips of his hair and he has to close his eyes against the pricking in the corners.

"I'm sorry," he rasps and the fingers gain more confidence, stroking lightly across his scalp.

"It's okay," Hermann says and his voice sounds gravelly. 

"No," Mendelssohn says letting his head thump back into the wall and staring at the door where the orderly still stands. "It's not."

Hermann's hand stills. "That..." he says quietly and trails off. "Yes."

The door opens and people trail out. They're all quiet and seem to be avoiding their eyes. Mendelssohn steels himself as he pushes himself up and stands on shaky legs. Hermann's hand is tight on his elbow, fingers digging painfully into his upper arm, as he stands close beside. He can see past the people leaving the room and his breath catches; Newt's lying on the bed, gown pulled down to his waist and pads on his chest and there's someone switching off monitors. Then Katz is through the door and heading towards them and all he hears is _I'm sorry, we did all we could_ before he's turning and walking away.

He can't hear anything, can barely see anything, and he doesn't _remember_ anything until there's rain hitting his face. A chopper taking off whips his agonised yell into the wind. 

He wants to let himself fall, crumple to his knees and slam his fists over and over into the metal, but he stands and he yells and he screams until he's hoarse. When he can't scream any more he stands and sways, buffeted by the wind, and stares out to sea feeling numb and empty and alone.

He hears the _whump_ of an umbrella and then the rain's not hitting his face anymore.

"Come inside," he hears Hermann say in a strained tone. "You'll catch your d-... You'll make yourself ill."

Mendelssohn can't say anything, can only shake his head and clench his jaw against the chattering of his teeth.

"Come here," Hermann says gently then he's pulling his parka open and wrapping it around Mendelssohn's shoulder, moving in close so his chest is pressed up against Mendelssohn's back. His hand splays across Mendelssohn's chest and then he's sighing with relief and pressing his forehead against Mendelssohn's temple. "Katz... Katz thinks it was a haemorrhage; a stroke or an aneurysm. It was quick and he likely didn't feel a thing. They'll be-" He cuts himself off with a quiet gasp and his arm tightens around Mendelssohn. "They'll be conducting an autopsy tomorrow." 

Mendelssohn continues staring out to sea but now his mind's full of images of Newt on a cold, steel table with someone slicing into him and it's all his worst nightmares come true.

"I was an only child," he rasps trying to distract himself from the gaping chasm that's opened up in his chest that he'd give anything to stop feeling. "It was just me and- and my dad. We moved a lot when I was a kid, trying to find a school that would work _with_ me rather than just sticking me in remedial and telling me I was too-... too stupid to learn. He knew- He _knew_ there was something special in me and they all thought he was just some father who couldn't accept that his kid wasn't a genius. They had me convinced for a while, too. For years I was the weird, friendless new kid who couldn't- couldn't read. Then I worked it out. I figured out how to make it work for _me_ and- and then I was in accelerated learning programs and I was skipping grades and then I was the weird, friendless kid who couldn't stop pointing out how smart he was. I was obnoxious. Still am. I just- spending so long being told I was a moron made me feel like that's what _everyone_ thought. I had to- have to make sure that's not what they think of me and... No one ever got me. No one ever-... and then he was there and- and I wasn't alone anymore. He's me and he understands everything I've been through and we're good together. We fight-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off lips pressing tightly together as he breathes in sharply through his nose. "We- we _fought_. But we work _so fucking well_ together and it was easy and it felt right and- and I fucking went and... I think fell in love with him and how even- what do I- I don't know what to do."

"I was falling for him." Hermann says quietly pressing his lips to Mendelssohn's temple. "I... I'm _still_ falling for you. I know I can't be everything he was to you; I'm never going to instinctively _get_ you the way he did. But... I care. I want you to be okay. I want _us_ to be okay."

"What if he's the real Newt and... and I'm just- Am I going to die too? If anything awful was going to happen it was going to happen to _me_. _I'm_ the _clone_. I'm not... I'm not real. I'm not _real_." 

"You're real, Mendelssohn," Hermann says and tosses the umbrella to the side to wrap his arms tightly around Mendelssohn. "You feel this? You are _real_."

"I'm not supposed to be here. I'm... plastic. I'm- I'm disposable," Mendelssohn whispers and it's the first time he's admitted it but he knows deep in his bones that it's the truth.

"You're not. You are _not_ disposable," Hermann says, voice cracking as he presses his forehead against Mendelssohn's and Mendelssohn can't tell if those are tears or raindrops on his face. 

"I can't feel anything," Mendelssohn says and it's barely a response.

"We need to get you back inside," Hermann says, taking a deep breath, seemingly grateful for the distraction as he rubs his hand vigorously over Mendelssohn's shoulder. 

Mendelssohn shakes his head. "I'm-... I'm empty," he says and pulls away from Hermann. "There's nothing in me. I'm- I need to go." 

"Mendelssohn, wait," Hermann says reaching for him as he starts to leave. "Do you want to see him? Katz said they wouldn't- they wouldn't move him until... until you'd..."

"I-" Mendelssohn starts and looks at Hermann helplessly. "I don't know. I'll... figure it out." He turns and walks away, leaving Hermann with his arm outstretched

He's heading blindly down the hall to the elevator when Tendo turns a corner and stops in front of him.

"Hey, man, you're looking a bit worse for wear. Everything okay?" He says and Mendelssohn can only stare at him blankly.

His brain won't process anything and he doesn't know what to say and- "Newt's dead," he blurts and then he's walking away and past the elevator bank and he just keeps going. 

He walks through the halls on autopilot; he knows he's causing a stir wherever he goes but he doesn't care. He's not thinking and he's not feeling - he's simply motion and momentum. He's the feel of his shoes hitting the floor and the ache in his knees and the cool breeze he creates that dries out his shirt. He's chafing and squelching and then he's standing outside the door to Newt's room and he's staring at it and swaying.

He doesn't know how long it's been since he left Hermann or how long he's been standing there. He hears whispers as people make their way down the hall and they always pass behind him, no one willing to get between him and the door. He doesn't know what makes him move, he didn't build up any courage or reach any resolution, but then he's standing in the room and he's closing the door behind him.

Newt's lying on the bed and someone's righted his gown and removed the IV line and all the monitors are off. He's sitting in his chair and he's staring at the- That's Newt. It's _Newt_. It's not a- It's _Newt_. It's his face and his body and his hair and his hands and he's not breathing and there's no life and- "You left me." His voice is barely above a whisper and he doesn't know when he decided to speak but it's all coming out now. "You were supposed to- _We_ were going to figure this out. We were going to figure it out and we were going to talk and it was going to be you and me and Hermann but you _left me_. You fucking asshole." He's on his feet and he's standing over him and he shoves him but Newt just moves to the side and settles again. "You fucking _asshole!_ Wake up! Wake the fuck up and _fight me_ you fucking _coward_! You think fucking _dying's_ going to get you out of talking to me? You think-... You fucking-... You..." He's leaning forward and he's leaning against Newt, forehead to forehead and his throat is tight and there are tears pricking his eyes and he's staring at Newt's face and his skin is cold and his hands are cold and there's no stinky coffee breath getting up his nose and- "Come back. You have to come back. I don't- I don't know how to do this without you anymore."

He kisses Newt and there's no response, lips cold and slack, and there was a part of his brain that hoped; that _still_ didn't get what happened, that couldn't process the enormity of it. "Why'd you have to go?" He says as a tear rolls down to the tip of his nose and falls to Newt's cheek and any second now Newt's going to open his eyes and tell him to stop being a giant baby.

It never happens.

He wipes his tears from Newt's face and then he's climbing into the bed, taking Newt's limp arm and wrapping it around him as he rests his head on Newt's chest and lets his tears fall.

He doesn't know how long he's been lying there pressed up against Newt's side, body cold except for where his own warmth has seeped in, but his tears have stopped and he thinks he might never be able to cry again. There's a shriek of metal on metal and he opens his eyes to see Hermann lowering the rail on the far side of the bed and cringing at the noise.

"Sorry," Hermann says, voice loud in the quiet of the room. "I saw you and- and I wanted one... one last..."

Mendelssohn gestures silently to the other side of the bed and watches as Hermann turns around and lifts himself up, twisting until he can haul his legs alongside. Hermann takes Newt's hand as Mendelssohn had done and lays himself down under it, resting his head on Newt's shoulder and closing his eyes with a sigh.

"He's not coming back," Mendelssohn murmurs and Hermann opens his eyes. 

"No," he agrees and Mendelssohn had never expected to see that level of devastation writ upon Hermann's face - had thought he'd keep it tightly buttoned up and hidden away. He feels a stab of guilt and hugs Newt tighter as it eats him away from the inside.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and Hermann shakes his head.

"It's not your fault," Hermann says and puts his hand over Mendelssohn's on Newt's chest and it feels like a betrayal to accept comfort when this is all because of him.

"We should have just left you alone. If- if we had you wouldn't be here and- We made you look like _that_. We did this to you," he says and Hermann seems to crumple even more, eyes welling up as he swallows and shakes his head.

"I would not _choose_... _this_ ," Hermann says gesturing between them, seemingly unable to articulate the enormity of what's happened. "But if avoiding this meant not having everything that came before? I would not choose that, either." 

"This is... this is too much, too soon. It hasn't even been _three weeks_. We didn't even get three fucking weeks together. How can- How is that even worth it?"

Hermann squeezes his hand tightly. "Everything is terrible right now; it hurts beyond the telling. We've both of us lost so much, but not... not _everything_." He lets go and cups Mendelssohn's cheek, stroking his thumb across the bone. "It's the parts we keep that make it all worthwhile."

Mendelssohn closes his eyes and nods, burying his face in Newt's chest. "I... I don't want to get up. I don't want to- to... I don't want him to be gone. The second we leave this bed it's... it's really real."

"It's no more real than it is now," Hermann says gently. "The only difference will be your acceptance of it." He trails his hand down Mendelssohn's arm and picks up his hand once more. "You walked two paths; his was paved and clear but ended... abruptly. Yours continues on, jagged and rocky, and now it's merged with mine. I walk it with you." He draws Mendelssohn's hand close and presses his lips to it. "We can stay longer. I don't-... I don't want to leave him behind, either."

Mendelssohn nods and squeezes Hermann's hand, but doesn't speak. He closes his eyes and breathes, trying to let himself pretend that they're in their own bed and any second now Newt's going to wake up slowly and, thinking Mendelssohn's still asleep, press a kiss to the top of his head. He drifts but he can't make himself believe it; Newt's chest doesn't rise and fall with every breath, he can't hear the thump of his heart by his ear, his stomach doesn't gurgle at strange times, it's Newt's body but... He has to accept that Newt isn't there anymore.

He opens his eyes and pulls his hand away from Hermann, turning to let his legs dangle over the edge of the bed. Staring down at his feet he takes a few deep breaths, slow and steady, before he pushes himself to stand and turns around. Hermann's raising his head and looking at him and Mendelssohn holds up a hand to stop him from following.

"You stay. Take your time. I'm... not ready. But I can't be here anymore." He stares down at Newt's face for a long time and then leans down to kiss his cheek, murmuring _love you, too_ into his cold skin. Straightening, he looks down at Hermann, still nestled against Newt's side, looking up at him with wide and soulful eyes, and leans down kiss him on the cheek, too.

He turns and leaves the room without another word, part of him feeling like that was goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Major character death. Grief and mourning from this chapter on. Continued hospital setting. 
> 
> Graphic description of an epic panic attack. Skip the paragraphs starting _Hermann's arms tighten around him_ and _He pushes away from the wall_ to avoid. To skip the aftermath as well, pick up reading at _"It's okay," Hermann says_. There are somewhat milder expressions of panic throughout the remainder of the chapter, but they're nowhere near as intense as that section.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Manifestations of grief.
> 
> If you haven't read this chapter, feel free to ignore this next note and just carry on as normal.
> 
>  **Note:** If you _have_ read this chapter, here's what to search the page for to get to the new content - _He can't take any of it back._
> 
> I am so sorry. I am a massive, _massive_ moron.

The lab is dark and cold and feels so much more empty when he gets there. The lights take their time coming on and he's grateful for the glow from the refrigerators making it feel less like he's walking into the gloom. He pulls out a sample, hangs his digital recorder from the lamp and sets to work.

For hours it's just him and the sample - no distractions. There's nothing in his head but what the sample is telling him and how it fits in with everything else he knows about the kaiju. Until Hermann comes in and stares at him from across the lab. 

Mendelssohn knows he wants to talk about it - he's tried to interrupt a few times. He just talks louder and faster until it's well after midnight and Hermann says a goodnight that might sound sad and brittle to someone not being too obnoxiously productive to listen, and leaves the lab. 

He continues to work until he's too exhausted to be holding a scalpel, then takes a nap on the couch.

He wakes feeling like he's barely closed his eyes, and goes back to work.

Hermann comes in at seven and, after a few rebuffed attempts at talking to Mendelssohn, goes to work. He tries again at nine, asking Mendelssohn to come get breakfast but Mendelssohn brushes him off, says he'll go eat later, and pulls out another sample.

It continues like that for the rest of the day. Hermann approaches him at lunch but Mendelssohn's 'way too busy' to go. Hermann brings him back a plate of vegetables covered in cheese sauce and they sit there congealing until Katz walks in at five. Hermann's over to her in a flash, speaking in a low, angry tone and pointing over at Mendelssohn repeatedly until she places a calming hand on his shoulder and walks over to Mendelssohn's side of the room.

"Hi, Mendelssohn," she says in a calm tone, looking around his workspace warily. "Hermann says you might be feeling a little stressed?"

"Hermann would be _wrong_ ," Mendelssohn says with a roll of his eyes. " _I'm_ being _incredibly_ productive. Hermann's the one you should be talking to. He's spent most of the day staring blankly at the screen or harassing me for no reason. It's a little out of character for him, usually you can't drag him away from his chalkboards, the musty old bastard."

"How much sleep did you get?" she asks carefully and he looks off into space for a moment.

"A couple of hours? I've got some interesting stuff here. See this, right here? The way these are structured suggests that Taurax probably shared a common ancestor with Spinejackal. This opens up a _whole new_ line of thinking with regards to-"

"I'm sure it's all very interesting, Mendelssohn, but that's not why I came down here?" Katz says, placing a hand on his forearm and staring at him seriously. "I have the results of the autopsy."

"Oh," he says, pushing his glasses up his nose with the back of his wrist. "Could you email them to me? I'm kind of in the middle of some stuff."

"Mendelssohn," she says and pauses, staring at him for a moment before continuing. "Newt had a subdural hematoma. The build up caused a significant amount of pressure to Broca's area, likely causing the aphasia, and eventually leading to his brain simply... shutting down."

"Okay," Mendelssohn says and looks at her blankly.

"There's more," she says and she's staring at him with a slight frown. He makes a winding motion with a single hand, waiting for her to continue. "As you're aware from the x-rays Dr. Griggson conducted on the pigs, some parts of him were organic, some were not. His lungs, heart, liver and gallbladder were all silicon constructs." She looks at him significantly and he just shakes his head and shrugs. "So was his brain."

"Oh, so we know who the clone was? That's a relief," he says and turns back to his sample, glancing up at her before he starts to cut. "Was there anything else?"

"Have you considered talking to someone?" Her voice is gentle and Mendelssohn frowns at her.

"About what?" He says, not taking his eyes away from the scalpel as he draws it through the membrane.

"About everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours. It's _okay_ to grieve. Whatever you're feeling right now-"

"Look, thanks for the report and everything, but I've really gotta get back to work," Mendelssohn says, cutting her off. "I've had these samples for a month and Pentecost wanted the preliminary reports three weeks ago."

"I can make an appointment with Dr. Liakos. He could come and see you here?" Katz tries and Mendelssohn snorts.

"That quack? No, thanks." He slides the membrane off and tosses it towards the bucket on the floor, maybe he'll look at it later but it's probably not going to tell him anything new. "It was a thing that happened, but... it's over. Now, I've gotta do my job and you're getting on my nerves. Hermann's not busy, take it up with him." He turns his attention to the sample and starts reciting notes into his recorder, making it as clear as possible that the conversation is done. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Katz stare at him for a while before turning and walking away. She stands with Hermann by the door and he overhears things like _grieving process_ and _coping strategy_ and _needs time_ until he tunes them out and just keeps working on his sample.

The next days pass the same way; he works, he naps on the couch, he works some more. Hermann attempts to engage him, he brushes Hermann off. Hermann brings him food and takes away the untouched remains.

On the third day, Hermann tries to physically stop him from working, putting his hands on Mendelssohn's shoulders and pulling him away from the sample he's looking at. He stumbles away when Mendelssohn spins and points at him with scalpel in hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mendelssohn yells waving his hand in Hermann's direction. "Are you trying to make me fucking cut myself?"

"I'm _trying_ to get you to _talk to me_ ," Hermann snaps watching Mendelssohn's hand carefully. "It's been days and all you've done is _work_. I- I _need_ you. I _need_ to know you're _okay_."

"I was fucking fine until you startled me while I was holding a fucking _scalpel_. Do you even think before you do this shit? I mean, you bitch and you bitch and you _bitch_ about how dangerous my samples are to you but in the end it was _your_ work that killed _me_ ," Mendelssohn spits and Hermann reels back, holding himself tensely as he swallows and looks away.

"I- I know," he says quietly and there's guilt written on his face and in his posture and that was not the reaction Mendelssohn was expecting. 

"Fuck you, Hermann," Mendelssohn says, throwing the scalpel down and yanking his gloves off, lobbing them forcefully at the wall before storming out of the lab.

He finds himself on the balcony again, and it's damp and wet, but for once it's not raining. He slides down the wall and sits on the bench under the overhang, staring numbly over Victoria Bay as the sun sets behind him. It takes about forty-five minutes, but the darkness of night still feels sudden. The lights over the helipad are on and facing the tarmac and occasionally a helicopter rises ponderously in front of him and shines a blinding light in his face as it adjusts its course and flies away. 

Hours pass and he can't seem to stop the mental loop of anger and guilt and self-recrimination going around and around in his head. He wants to blame someone, wants to have a place to direct his frustration and rage, but the incident report and subsequent inquiry ruled it an accident; Bhakta and Katz did all they could under extenuating circumstances, there's only himself and Hermann and... and nobody did anything fucking wrong. There's just... nothing he can do. Nowhere all the rage and pain can go.

He pushes himself to his feet and walks back through the halls feeling heavy and exhausted and horribly present. The lights are off in the lab when he passes and he finds himself outside the door to his room, staring apprehensively at the wheel. He hasn't been back since the day Newt had... He can't bring himself to open the door.

He sits on the step, looking away down the hall, hands clenched tightly in his hair. He's fucked everything; he can't go into his room and the one person who has any idea what he's going through is the person he stabbed in the gut and stared in the eye as he twisted the knife. He knew exactly what he was doing and he wanted it to _hurt_. 

He can't take that back.

He can't take any of it back.

But he can apologise. 

Maybe then Hermann won't hate him so much when the clouds begin to clear.

He walks over to Hermann's door, standing in front of it and building himself up before he knocks. Hermann answers a few moments later, blazer off and top button undone, hair sticking up as though he'd been running his hands through it repetitively.

"I'm sorry," he says and Hermann's jaw clenches. "It- I- We weren't there because of you. It wasn't your fault."

Hermann's lips thin and he closes his eyes and inclines his head slowly but doesn't say anything. He steps back into the room, putting his hand on the door and Mendelssohn nods, taking it as his cue to leave - the one good thing he had in his life and he's broken it beyond repair.

"Mendelssohn," Hermann says and Mendelssohn looks over his shoulder to see Hermann gesturing inside. 

Turning on his heel, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks into Hermann's room; he's never been inside before, but it's just as neat and orderly as he imagined.

"I needed you," Hermann says as he shuts the door, sliding a hand down the metal as he turns the lock. "I needed you and you weren't there. You retreated so far that... that I lost _both_ of you in a matter of hours."

"I'm sorry. I- I couldn't handle it. I thought... I thought it'd make it easier for you," Mendelssohn says staring at the floor by Hermann's feet.

"How on _earth_ could that have possibly made anything _easier_?" Hermann sneers and thumps over to stand in front of him. "I was _alone_. The only person who could even come _close_ to understanding what I was going through was pretending that nothing had happened and wouldn't so much as _look_ at me for days. How is that _easy_?"

"Look at me, Hermann," Mendelssohn says, raising his head and staring past Hermann. "Look at my _face_. Who are you looking at? Me? Or _him_? He's with me _everywhere_ I go. Mirrors, glass, _every reflective surface_ , he's staring back at me. I _can't_ escape him. Why would you _choose_ to have that constant reminder of- of everything you've lost?"

"You _idiot_ ," Hermann yells, pointing at Mendelssohn and so brimming with emotion that he's shaking and sputtering as he stalks towards him. His hand's in Mendelssohn's face and Mendelssohn's looking up at him and waiting for him to strike, knowing he deserves it after what he put him through. But then Hermann's deflating, anger giving way to exhaustion and helplessness and Mendelssohn has to turn away. Hermann takes a step forward and brushes his knuckles over Mendelssohn's cheek, waiting until Mendelssohn makes tentative eye contact before continuing. "You complete fool," he says softly. "We lost so much and I would give anything to have him back. Anything... _except_ you."

"We're not interchangeable. You can't just pick up with me as if he was never here," Mendelssohn says ducking Hermann's hand and stepping away, turning his back so he doesn't have to watch Hermann's face fall. 

"You weren't interchangeable before." Hermann comes to stand behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Mendelssohn has to close his eyes or risk turning around. "It can never be the same as it was; I couldn't even pretend. But I don't want to lose everything we had because of an accident. I don't want to lose _you_."

"He wasn't supposed to be there," Mendelssohn says and Hermann's grip tightens on his shoulder. "I was gonna go up and get what we needed but he... he wanted to get out of the lab. You should be having this conversation with him right now. It should have been me."

"Neither of you should have been talking to me at the time," Hermann says hand dropping away. "It _should_ have been _me_." Mendelssohn turns around and starts to protest and Hermann holds up a hand to stop him speaking. "We are both of us going to have to... deal with this survivor's guilt, but I... I'd much rather do it by your side."

"I feel like I'm betraying him," Mendelssohn says, looking away. "Every second I spend with you is another second _he's_ not going to get. How can I- How can we just _move on_?"

"We take him with us. Everywhere we go. You said so yourself," Hermann says and tilts Mendelssohn's chin up until he can look him in the eye. "I don't have any answers for you. I can't make the pain in my own heart stop, even for a fraction of a second. I don't expect that yours will be any easier to overcome. I cannot pretend that we're going to walk straight into a happily ever after, but I can tell you that I want dearly to hold you, and to lay my head beside yours, and, perhaps, to sleep through the night."

"I want that, too." Mendelssohn sighs, mouth downturned at the sides. "I just- I don't know if I deserve it. You know - you _know_ \- it's not going to be the same. I'm gonna fuck this up somehow. The only reason we got this far was- was because we were... exchanging notes. On you. One of us would notice something the other didn't and- and there was always someone to mediate or run interference and- Together? We could have been good enough for you. I-... I can't do that alone."

"I am only going to say this once," Hermann says straightening and looking down at Mendelssohn seriously. "I know what you are like - _have known_ for years. I was attracted to you when you were singular. Your unexpected plurality was a boon to me, and your equally unexpected return to singularity is-..." He glances to the side and swallows, widening his eyes and looking up before turning back. "We are both of us grieving. Now is not the time to make rash decisions. I am here for you... As I hope you will be here for me." Hermann brushes the back of his fingers over Newt's cheek and seems to wait until Mendelssohn leans into the touch before sliding them back into his hair. "Whatever obstacles may come before us, we can manage. We will argue. We will misunderstand. We will _work through it_. Unless... Is that what you want? Are we... Is this the end?"

Mendelssohn closes his eyes, swallowing convulsively at the tightness in his throat and the burning in his eyes. "I d-.... I don't want to give you up," he whispers and Hermann steps closer and wraps his arms around Mendelssohn, pressing his head down until it's leaning on Hermann's shoulder.

"Then don't," Hermann says, hands rubbing up and down Mendelssohn's back as Mendelssohn finally gives in and lets himself hug Hermann back.

His fingers curl into the back of Hermann's sweater vest as he pushes closer and lets himself feel the warmth seeping back into him. It feels like so long since they'd held each other that he can't help the shuddering breath that escapes. 

"I can't- I can't go back to our-" He cuts himself off and squeezes his eyes shut taking a few deep breaths before forcing himself to continue. "I can't go back to my room. Can't even open the door. I can- I can go back to the lab. If you don't want-"

"Shut up," Hermann says gently cutting him off. "You're staying here. I'm not letting you out of my sight." Hermann pulls back and looks down at him. "You look exhausted. How much sleep have you been getting?"

"Couple of hours a night, maybe." Mendelssohn shrugs, shrinking in on himself. "Had to work until I passed out or I'd start... thinking."

"You haven't showered in days either, have you?" Hermann asks and Mendelssohn shakes his head, drawing his arms back and curling them around his own body. Hermann sighs and presses a kiss to Mendelssohn's temple. "Go get washed up and come to bed."

Mendelssohn trudges into the bathroom and strips off, feeling the past week and a half beginning to catch up with him. He showers and uses Hermann's shampoo to wash his hair and breathes a sigh of relief because, at least for a little while, he's not going to smell like _Newt_.

When he steps out, there's a pair of drawstring pyjama pants sitting on top of a towel on the toilet. He dries off, studiously avoiding his reflection in the mirror, and pulls the pants on. They're far too long on him and he has to roll them up before he walks back into the main room.

Hermann looks up and slides his book onto the bedside table before patting the spot beside him, staring at Mendelssohn as he sits and takes his glasses off before lying down stiffly on his back.

"Roll on your side," Hermann directs and then he's leaning over and turning off the light before slotting himself in behind Mendelssohn and splaying a hand across his chest. "I've missed you," he says into the back of Mendelssohn's head, pressing a kiss to his neck, and Mendelssohn can only bite his lip and apologise. "Shh, sleep. I've got you now."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **ATTENTION EVERYONE:** IF YOU READ [CHAPTER 19](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1943418/chapters/5367707) YESTERDAY, HALF OF IT WAS MISSING.  
>  CHAPTER 20 WON’T MAKE SENSE WITHOUT IT.
> 
> I’ve updated [Chapter 19](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1943418/chapters/5367707) with the missing content and the notes at the beginning have a phrase to search for to find where it was cut off. I’m so sorry. I am a moron. I apologise for the shoutiness.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Regular Warnings:** Short, mid-level stabs of panic/high-emotion through out. Be wary of the first few paragraphs and a few paragraphs following "He realises his mistake...".
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> .

Mendelssohn wakes slowly, eyes caked with sleep and face pressed into Hermann's chest. He nuzzles in sleepily and pats around behind Hermann and- His breath leaves him in a rush, eyes scrunching shut as he curls his hand back and holds onto Hermann tightly. There's a hand running through his hair and down his back, and Hermann's murmuring softly into his ear.

"You're okay. You're with me. I've got you," he says repeatedly in a low, calming tone until Mendelssohn starts to settle.

"I'm sorry. I thought- I thought..." 

Hermann presses a kiss to the top of his head and rests his cheek on the crown. "I know. The first morning was the worst," he says distantly and tightens his hold on Mendelssohn slightly. "I was alone and- and neither of you were there. Then I remembered what had happened and, for a brief moment, I thought both of you were... gone. Forever."

"I never meant to abandon you," Mendelssohn says into Hermann's chest; he can't look up and see the betrayal in his eyes.

"I know," Hermann replies and there's a hint of bitterness in his tone. "We all grieve in different ways. Sometimes... our grief cuts those we never meant to hurt. I... I'm simply grateful we were able to see reason before... before the damage was too great to repair." 

"You're saying 'we' like it wasn't me losing the plot and being a complete asshole to you," Mendelssohn says, pushing himself up to look down at Hermann in confusion.

Hermann bites his lip and looks down guiltily, hand dropping from Mendelssohn's back to toy with the buttons on his pyjama shirt. "You... you really didn't hear anything I said- _yelled-_ at you, did you?"

"Um. I was kind of _really_ intent on pretending you didn't exist. I knew you were yelling at me... I just... didn't really care what," Mendelssohn says with a twist of his lips. "Whatever it was, I probably deserved it."

"No." Hermann shakes his head regretfully. "You didn't. I was upset and- and _angry_ and _trying_ to get a reaction out of you. The problem with having been in each others' orbits so long is we know exactly where to stick the knife and how to twist it to make it hurt the most. Please, don't listen to those recordings."

"They're my _notes_ , Hermann," Mendelssohn says looking at Hermann apologetically. "I can't just pretend they don't exist. If I do have to listen to them I... I won't hold anything you said against you."

"You will," Hermann says with certainty, lips twisting bitterly.

"Are you holding anything I said or did against me?" Mendelssohn asks and Hermann shakes his head and opens his mouth but Mendelssohn quickly brings a hand up and presses a finger over his lips to silence him. "Then it's the least I can do for you." Hermann looks disbelieving, but he closes his eyes and gives a conceding nod. "We should get up."

"No," Hermann says reaching up to move Mendelssohn's hand away. "I think we deserve a late morning."

"Go Slow?" Mendelssohn asks and Hermann nods and presses Mendelssohn's head back to his chest, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing him tight.

"Go Slow," Hermann agrees.

They doze, taking comfort in each other's warmth and not speaking any more than they have to, until ten when Mendelssohn gets up, slips his glasses on and heads into the bathroom. 

It feels like he's been pissing for hours by the time he's done and as he washes his hands, he steels himself. He looks in the mirror and... it doesn't feel like Newt's staring back at him this time. There are dark, heavy bags under his eyes and his skin looks waxy and sallow from not eating. Four days without shaving has taken him from lightly stubbled to on-the-verge-of-rugged and he only realises how much it itches when he sees how close to having a beard he is. He splashes water over his face and walks back into the room, sitting on the side of the bed and playing with the drawstring.

"I... I've got to go back to my room," he says quietly and Hermann's hand comes up to rub the small of his back gently.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Hermann asks pushing himself up to sit and Mendelssohn shakes his head.

"No, I-... It's my room. It's- I have to be able to do it by myself. I _live_ there." He looks at Hermann and gives him a half-smile. "You'd probably kill me if I tried to stay here forever."

"One night is hardly forever," Hermann says and pushes himself along the bed until he can swing his legs out and sit beside Mendelssohn. "You're welcome to stay until you're ready."

"I don't think I'm ever going to be 'ready'," Mendelssohn says and reaches for his jeans.

"No," Hermann says slapping the pants out of Mendelssohn's hand. "You are _not_ to put those trousers back on until they've been properly laundered," Hermann says and uses Mendelssohn's shoulder to lever himself up and make his way slowly across the room. "I'm sure I've something you can wear."

"You haven't been stretching, have you?" Mendelssohn says, eyes narrowing at Hermann's uneven gait and the way he's hunching over; he'd lay money on Hermann being the same height as him right now.

"We all... We all punish ourselves in different ways," Hermann says, slightly out of breath as he leans against the closet to open a drawer in the dresser.

Mendelssohn stands and moves up behind Hermann, snaking his arm around his chest and placing a hand on the small of his back. "You don't deserve to be punished."

"We have differing opinions in that regard," Hermann says stiffly, but he relaxes a little as Mendelssohn presses down a little firmer and presses a kiss to his shoulder. Hermann pulls out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and puts them on top of the dresser before squeezing Newt's hand and turning so he's leaning fully against the closet. "These should fit you. No rush to return them." 

Mendelssohn takes his hand away and watches as the tension in Hermann's body increases minutely. "Thanks," he says and pulls the t-shirt looking down to see _IAENG World Congress on Engineering 2014_ emblazoned across the chest. He looks up at Hermann wide-eyed and Hermann's got a small wistful smile on his face. "This thing's eight years old."

"It has sentimental value," Hermann says with a minute shrug and Mendelssohn has to cup his cheeks and kiss him softly. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Hermann asks as Mendelssohn moves away.

"No," Mendelssohn says as he tugs on the drawstring and lets the pyjama pants pool around his ankles before grabbing the sweats and pulling them on. "I need to rip the bandaid off quickly. I'll... I'll be okay?"

"You will," Hermann says reaching out to squeeze Mendelssohn's arm supportively. "And if you're not, I'll be here."

Mendelssohn nods distractedly and scrambles around to grab his things off the floor - Hermann was right, his clothes smell awful - before standing in front of the door and taking a deep breath. "Okay. I'll, uh, see you in the lab," he says and doesn't wait for a response before slipping out. 

He stands in the middle of the hall and fumbles in his dirty jeans for his key before making his way slowly down to his room. The door looks ominous and foreboding and it shouldn't because he knows exactly what he's going to find on the other side; he'd been in there multiple times while Newt was in hospital, it wasn't going to magically change now that he was... not here anymore. He builds himself up muttering _come on, you can do this_ and it's only the strange looks he gets from people passing that finally force him to unlock the door and bustle in. 

He tries not to let himself freeze, forces himself not to look around; just dumps everything in the laundry pile and goes straight to the bathroom. He picks up his razor and stares in the mirror, briefly considering just leaving the beard so he won't look like Newt, but then an image of Griggson's unruly ginger thatch pops into his head and he flicks the switch, grimacing as it cuts through the dark, thick whiskers. He's not aiming for perfect, just _gone_ , and by the time he considers himself done, his sideburns are a little uneven and there's a couple of rough patches here and there, but his face doesn't itch anymore and that's good enough for him.

He brushes his teeth and slicks on some deodorant and then he's out in the main room and rummaging for something to wear. It's stupid, but he's not ready to go back to normal; to wear what he's been wearing pretty much every day for years now. He pulls out a pair of ratty old blue jeans, worn around the hem and fraying at the waist and pulls them on, leaving Hermann's ugly green WCE tee on and pulling a hoody over it. Sitting on the bed, he pulls on a pair of socks and grabs a tablet to start his email downloading while he does up his sneakers. 

He realises his mistake as soon as he unlocks it.

Hermann's blushing at the camera as he and Newt kiss his cheeks and suddenly everything's crashing down and all he can see in the room are the places that Newt _isn't_. He isn't in the bed and he's not in the chair and he's not in the room and he's not fucking _here_ anymore. His fingers tighten on the screen and it takes everything he has to drop it to the bed and focus on tying up his shoelaces. As soon as he's finished, he grabs the tablet and stalks down to the lab.

He pushes the door open and keeps his head down as he makes his way determinedly towards Hermann's desk. "You need to take this. You need to take and you need to _hide_ it. Because if I see it again I'm- I'm gonna break it and-" Mendelssohn swallows and looks away, voice dropping to a whisper. "I- I _don't want to break it_."

Hermann looks up at him and pushes his glasses up his nose with a single finger. "What is it?" He asks, taking the tablet and rubbing a hand down Mendelssohn's arm in concern. He puts the tablet down on the table and moves to unlock it and Mendelssohn's hands fly out, jerking forward to grab Hermann's and keep them away.

"Don't! Don't look at it. It's... It's the pictures. It's the fucking _pictures_ I insisted we take and- and I'm fucking _glad_ we have them but... I can't- I can't look at them. I don't want to _see_ them. Take them and hide them. Just _hide them_." Mendelssohn pleads and then Hermann's pulling him down into a hug and stroking a hand over his back and through his hair and he shouldn't be sitting in Hermann's lap but he can't stop clinging to him like he's going to fall apart if he lets go.

"I'll hide them. You won't- you won't have to see them until you're ready," Hermann's saying over and over and he can't see his face but he sounds as wrecked as Mendelssohn feels.

"Fuck, jesus, the _videos_ ," Mendelssohn says, fingers digging into Hermann's back in agitation. "Nobody can find it. It's- shit. Promise me you won't watch them. _Promise me_." 

"I won't. I promise," Hermann says, stroking Mendelssohn's hair and rocking him gently. "I'll put it in a drawer where it won't be found and leave it there."

"Good. That's- That's good," Mendelssohn says and he's still clutching Hermann to him. He lets himself be held until he calms enough that he can pry his fingers out of Hermann's shirt and leans back to press his forehead against Hermann's. "I really shouldn't be sitting on you, man." He tries to push himself up but Hermann won't let go.

"It is both comfort given and received," Hermann murmurs brushing his hand over the back of Mendelssohn's head. "I'm glad of the fact that you're allowing it now."

"Sorry," Mendelssohn says closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I just-"

"There's no right way to do this, Mendelssohn," Hermann says cutting him off. "We can make it through as long as we stick together."

"Doesn't make me any less sorry," Mendelssohn says with a twist of his lips. "I'm still going to get my totally reasonable ass off-" It feels like a punch to the gut, saying something that was never said to him in the first place. "Shit shit _shit_." He'd thought he was starting to feel better but now he's back where he was ten minutes ago and all it took was one stupid sentence. "There are things I want to say but... but then I remember that it was _him_ who said them or they're things that _he_ would say and I- I can't do it. I can't be him but he was me and if I can't be _me_ what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Hermann holds him tighter, staring up at him with eyes full of feeling. "I wish I had an answer for you. The wound is fresh and the pain still sharp, with time you will feel it less keenly." Hermann leans back in the chair, pulling Mendelssohn with him until he's leaning against his chest. "You have always been you and you _will_ always _be_ you."

"Maybe one day I'll stop being _him_ ," Mendelssohn mutters and Hermann just kisses his forehead and holds him close. "Fuck, this is bullshit. I'm getting off you now- _Don't_ argue with me. I saw how wrecked you were this morning. I'm not gonna make it worse by sitting on you while I keep getting upset for bullshit reasons."

"They're not _bullshit reasons_ ," Hermann says stretching as Mendelssohn stands. "Any time you need comfort, in _any_ form, you come to me. No arguments." Hermann looks at him sternly and Mendelssohn nods slowly.

"I'm not gonna sit on your lap again," Mendelssohn says matter-of-factly. "But if I start having another meltdown I'll come see you, okay?" He leans down and gives Hermann a kiss on the cheek before heading over to his side of the room without waiting for an answer.

Mendelssohn checks on the test rats, making sure they're all okay and then setting up the maze to see if there've been any changes in their response times in the past week and a half. He's just setting up the camera when he looks at it and frowns. He looks over at the table with the half finished milking machine set up and narrows his eyes. He grabs a tablet and flicks open his email, taking a deep breath before opening up the autopsy report and skimming through it.

" _Motherfucker_ ," he spits and pulls out his phone and dials. "Yeah, Katz? You got it wrong. Or- or _Warner_ got it wrong. Whoever did the autopsy got it _wrong_. The damage you found in his brain wasn't _caused_ by the accident - it started _way_ before. The aphasia? It happened a few times that I know of. _Long_ before he hit his head. He was-... he was already... What? _No_. This isn't _grief_ , it's fucking _science_... You want proof? I've got the clone rats here; it's been more than a week since we ran them through the maze, if there's any major change in their times, we'll _have_ the proof. I'll call you back in two hours."

He sets up the test - everything takes so much longer now and he tries not to let it get to him - and presses record.

"Taurax Rat One. Maze Run. Previous best time forty-five point three eight seconds," Mendelssohn says putting his hand on the rat release and pressing the timer as he opens the door. He watches as the rat runs through the maze and gets to the last junction, sniffing one way and then the other before running down the corridor leading to the good cheese. The second it bites into the cheese, Mendelssohn stops the timer. "Forty-three point one one seconds. New best."

He stops the recording and picks up the rat, scratching him behind the ears as he sets him back in the cage and returns to the maze to wipe it down before repeating the process with the clone.

"Taurax Rat Two. _Clone_ Maze Run. Previous best time forty-eight point four five seconds." He picks up the stopwatch and opens the door and watches as the rat runs through it. The rat moves pretty fast but takes a lot of wrong turns and by the time he reaches the last junction, Mendelssohn's crossing his fingers, almost afraid to look at the timer. The rat makes the wrong choice and heads toward the bad cheese and Mendelssohn sighs as it bites into it, and then again. He disconnects the small battery leading to the cheese and looks down at the stopwatch wearily. "Time: fifty-four point five five seconds. New worst." He sighs and picks up the rat before it can eat all the cheese, stroking slowly along its spine sympathetically before setting it back in the cage.

He repeats the process with the other rats. Doors Rat One is three seconds faster. Its clone is four seconds slower but makes the right choice, possibly by chance. The control rat is three seconds faster.

He picks the phone up again and calls Katz. "The clones are all significantly slower. I think they're beginning to break down... How else are we supposed to measure it? ... I don't know, maybe... maybe it- wait, the autopsy report all his other organs were fine, right? What if it's just the brain? The other organs are all limited - they've only got one job. What if the brain is just too complex for the construct to maintain prolonged function? If-... No, this is _educated_ speculation. There's evidence to sup-... What more do you-... Oh my god, have you _seen_ half my submitted reports? We're flying blind here, dude, there're no absolutes in this field. We've... I wasn't suggesting we present it to him right now... _No you cannot biopsy my brain_... Look, I've got some ideas. You keep doing what you're doing and I'll keep doing what I'm doing. Send me your work... Yeah, later."

He hangs up and heads into the alcove, grabbing all the research he has and dumping it on the couch. Tesla scampers down one of the runs and scratches at the window and he holds up a hand. "Be with you in a minute, little buddy," he says as he looks critically around the room for anything he might have missed or forgotten before turning and rapping his fingers on one of the lower cages and waiting for Tesla to come so he can pick him up. "Gonna give you free run of the couch today. Don't make me regret it." He gives the rat a scratch behind the ears and sits down on the couch, hauling a leg up so he's sitting sideways and staring at all the printouts and tablets. Tesla runs back and forth over everything, sticking his nose in and occasionally settling to stare off into space. 

Mendelssohn sets everything up into piles for each test subject: the pigs, the five rats, Newt and himself and then sets about discarding everything that gave him the same or similar information. It takes him more than an hour and he's left with a small pile of things. He leans back on the couch and places Tesla on his chest as he goes through it critically, trying not to think about all the other things he knows about the case and focussing on the stuff he has in front of him. He's sure a lot of it is outlier information but there's got to be something he's hasn't seen before.

"I thought we said we were having a Go Slow," Hermann says, picking his way through the boxes of things and looking down at Mendelssohn with a raised eyebrow. 

"We are, we are, but- oh, here." Mendelssohn moves a pile of stuff from the couch and pats the cushion, leaning into Hermann as he sits beside him. "There's just some stuff that..." he sighs and looks at Hermann. "I think... I think Newt was already beginning to break down. I mean, I know I could be reading too much into this but... there were signs even before the accident."

"Such as?" Hermann asks with a concerned frown.

"The whole aphasia thing? It wasn't as pronounced as after the accident, but... he'd say the wrong words sometimes. He asked me to get the 'chimera' once, and we had a whole conversation where he said 'time' instead of 'team'. It wasn't really hugely noticeable then but... hindsight," Mendelssohn shrugs and looks down at Tesla, stroking his back to keep himself from fidgeting. "And this might just be me but... I've been wondering if Newt not... not wanting to have _that_ talk with me might have been kind of like the rats and the maze. Just- Wait, no, _hear me out_. We kept having the same argument and he kept making the same mistakes and... and maybe it's because we're a shit-ton more complex than the rats and it presented differently."

Hermann looks at Mendelssohn sympathetically. "Is it possible you're reading what you want from these results?"

"Maybe?" Mendelssohn says with a shrug. "But I _wanted_ to have that conversation. I wanted you to be able to come and go without checking over your shoulder every time. I- I wanted to be able to hug him or kiss him without sex as a pretext and I _know_ how fucked up that is, believe me, I _know_. I just... we weren't _that_ different. What if... What if the clones are only as good as their experiences _before_ the split? The clone rats are running the maze slower and slower while the originals are speeding up. They're _learning_." He sighs, twisting his hands in his lap and looking over at Hermann sadly. "I'd... I'd never really had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of weeks. Once it got past just having sex all the time, they all kind of just fell apart. Before _you_. I think it might have been the whole talking thing. You made us do it and- and now we're still here, still together. And then I wanted to do it with him and... I _learned_. He... He didn't."

"The theory sounds plausible," Hermann concedes. "Is there any way you can prove it?"

Mendelssohn sighs and slumps down, rubbing his nose over the top of Tesla's head. "Not conclusively. Not without exposing _another_ human and seeing if one of the clones develops more emotionally than the other. And we'd never get any unbiased data because humans are sucky subjects and terrible at self-reporting. All I've got is the rats and the pigs and if X then maybe Y."

"Does it comfort you to think that his shortcomings may not have been wilful?" Hermann asks and Mendelssohn stares off into space for a moment.

"No? It means that he was a fixed point. He was never going to _be_ here that long. He- he had an expiration date. He wasn't going to learn or grow or-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off and pinches his tear ducts. "I can't present comfort to Pentecost, anyway."

"Would you have preferred to present the fact that Newt didn't want to have a relationship conversation with you as definitive proof that he was the clone?" Hermann asks and Mendelssohn glares at him.

"Of _course_ not. I- Oh. Yeah. I guess it's kind of useless to anybody but me and you," Mendelssohn sighs. "I've got all this information and I can't find _anything_ to point me in the right direction."

"What are you looking at now?" Hermann asks wrapping an arm around Mendelssohn's shoulder as he looks at the printout on Mendelssohn's lap.

"All the outliers. Everything that doesn't quite match up," he says and spreads it out so Hermann can see better. "Everything else fits somewhere; the pigs are the same as the rats are the same as me and Newt in terms of the biological progression of the split. Everything here could just be noise, but maybe there's something to it. Like, the tumors. I mean, they were important in giving us a heads up on how the cloning process worked, but the fact that we found out that way is coincidental. They _could_ mean something, but none of the other subjects has shown any sign of developing tumors, so I'm fucked if I know what it could be." He grabs a tablet and flicks through a few things until he's got a document on screen. "Or we've got the slight difference in time it took for the split to occur with the rats compared to the pigs and me and Newt. They took two and three days. Me and the pig took five. We attributed it to the rats being smaller and being exposed to the sonics, but what if-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off with a frown and grabs another tablet, flicking through until he finds what he wants. "What if we found the fucking way to stop it right at the beginning? Fuck me. Fucking _fuck me_." Mendelssohn scoops Tesla up and puts him on Hermann's chest before sitting up and sorting through the papers until he finds his phone.

He holds up the phone to his ear and waits for it to connect. "Katz? Dude, _dude_ , I've worked it out! It's the fucking _UV!_ That's how we stop the reaction from happening! ... Dude, no, listen. It took me and the pig five days to split after we were exposed. The rats? They took two and three days. Their process was sped up by the sonics _and_ the fact that we only exposed them to UV _once_ to make sure they'd been properly exposed. Me and the pig were exposed regularly a couple of times a day after we knew what it did. If I'm right, then the UV prevented it from replicating or broke it down or something. So, if someone was exposed to the substance and were immediately treated with UV, we could potentially _stop_ the process before it has a chance to take hold... I can use the control. It's been long enough; it's just sitting around getting fat now... All we have to do is expose it, keep a UV light shining in its cage, and see what happens... We should know in a couple of days... Yeah, I'll use the Doors so we've got a visual on record... I'll keep you posted."

He hangs up and tosses his phone on the table, grabbing everything on his lap and setting it to one side of the coffee table. "Looks like I've finally got-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off as he turns to see Hermann looking at Mendelssohn expectantly, hands cupped around Tesla protectively on his chest and a single finger stroking over the rat's head. "Newt would have paid good money to see you like that," he says looking down at Hermann wistfully. 

"What am I supposed to do when you unceremoniously _dump_ a living creature on me?" Hermann asks with a disdainful sniff, but his hands are still soft and gentle on Tesla's little body.

"I dunno. I just thought you'd be more awkward about it," Mendelssohn shrugs. "Do you want to play with him a little while longer? I've gotta set up this test, but you're welcome to-"

" _No_. No. It's- Here." Hermann scoops Tesla up and thrusts him in Mendelssohn's direction, glaring as Mendelssohn snorts and takes him off his hands.

"Dude, chill. Tesla's a lab rat - they're bred to be more docile and are socialized from a young age so they're used to being handled. If you want to play with him, it's fine, he's not gonna bite." Mendelssohn smirks as Hermann pauses for a fraction of a second then shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I have too much work to do to spend time playing with rodents," Hermann says with a shake of his head and Mendelssohn smirks as he settles against Hermann's side.

"What happened to your Go Slow?" Mendelssohn asks, letting go of Tesla and watching as he scampers up his chest and sits on his shoulder staring at Hermann.

"Derailed by progress," Hermann says looking suspiciously at the rat. "What happened to the experiment you were talking to Katz about?"

"Derailed by the realization that you've never sat on my couch before," Mendelssohn says resting his head on Hermann's shoulder as Tesla creeps over and sits on Hermann's chest. "Seriously, you've never come over here for any extended period of time. Why now?"

Hermann stares down at Tesla and raises a hand, stroking a single finger down his back, but doesn't respond.

"Don't think you can get out of this by being cute." Mendelssohn turns his head to look up at Hermann. "What's up?"

Hermann sighs, focussing on the rat. "You were... You had been quiet for some time. I needed to know that you were... alright." Hermann looks at him tentatively and Mendelssohn kisses his shoulder, rolling slowly onto his side so he can wrap an arm around Hermann's middle without disturbing Tesla.

"I'm okay," Mendelssohn says and Hermann nods distantly, directing his attention back to trailing his fingers gently over Tesla's back.

"Sometimes I forget what happened," Hermann says softly and Mendelssohn has to hug him a little tighter. "I'll be working and then... then I'll remember that he's gone. It hits so suddenly it takes all the wind out of me and if you're not- if I can't _hear_ you in the room I begin to worry that... that you're gone, too."

"I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon," Mendelssohn says and Hermann's fingers flex involuntarily and he looks away.

"Because what happened with Newt was _planned_." Hermann huffs and startles Tesla who chirrups and darts up to hide in the gap between Hermann's neck and Mendelssohn's forehead.

Mendelssohn sighs and takes Hermann's hand now that it's no longer occupied with Tesla. "I can't promise that there aren't going to be any accidents. And I know I can't convince your lizard-brain that I'm fine, but any time you want to come cuddle on my couch to reassure yourself, I'm cool with that." Mendelssohn squeezes Hermann's hand, smiling as Hermann rests his cheek on Mendelssohn's head.

"I'm sorry for being so... clingy," Hermann says rubbing his hand up Mendelssohn's side. 

"Pfft, how long did I spend sitting on your lap earlier? We had days of space because I'm an asshole who couldn't handle shit. Whatever you need right now is cool. I'm back. I'm here for you." He turns his head and presses a kiss to the nearest spot and frowns. "Pretend I just kissed you and not Tesla, 'kay?"

Hermann snorts and gives Mendelssohn's torso a brief squeeze. "Didn't you need to set up an experiment?"

"It can wait. Twenty minutes. An hour. It's not going to make a huge amount of difference. Besides, this is... this is good." 

He relaxes against Hermann and they drift into a companionable silence. Eventually Tesla regains his courage and comes creeping out of his hiding place, spending the next half hour crawling all over them.

"I should get back to work," Hermann murmurs and starts to move, mindful of the rat perched on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Mendelssohn agrees pushing himself up so he's not leaning all over Hermann's side. "You ever find the problem with the code? I don't remember you saying."

"I'm halfway through a second pass," Hermann says as he lifts Tesla up and passes him back to Mendelssohn. "I'm almost certain the issue is one of the physical connections, but Finnegan's team hasn't found anything, either."

"Damn. That sucks," Mendelssohn says as he stands to put Tesla back in the rat-run.

"Quite," Hermann says with pursed lips as he stands and makes his way out of the alcove, hunched over and slow.

"Hey, wait a second." Mendelssohn moves quickly to catch up. As Hermann turns around, Mendelssohn slides his hands under Hermann's blazer and sweatervest and presses his hands to Hermann's lower back. "Gotta lay hands on my man," he says with a wink and Hermann huffs a small laugh and leans against Mendelssohn.

"I didn't know I was dating a faith healer," Hermann says as he closes his eyes.

"Just getting started in the field; still getting the hang of it. Any pointers?" Mendelssohn asks, staring at Hermann's face for any signs he's doing it wrong.

"A little firmer... Ah, that's it. That's good," Hermann says and slowly straightens, holding his breath and letting it out slowly. 

"Feeling any better?" Mendelssohn asks when Hermann begins to relax, shoulders dropping.

"Enough that returning to work doesn't feel quite so daunting," Hermann says and kisses him softly. "Thank you."

"Any time, man," Mendelssohn says as Hermann slips out of his grasp and walks back to his side of the room. He's still hunched over way more than usual, but it's slightly better than it was and Mendelssohn counts it as a modest win.

He spends the next hour setting up a UV lamp that will fit in the control rat's cage and give full coverage, then reworks the soundproofing left over from the earlier experiment so everything will fit. He sets everything up and positions the camera before setting it to record. 

"September sixth, twenty-twenty-two, four-thirty pm. Testing the substance from the kaiju gland on a lab rat with a view to reversing the infection. Hypothesis is that the exposure to UV hinders the substance's ability to replicate and/or breaks down the substance. Due to the limited number of rats on hand, I'm using the control rat from the previous experiment and crossing my fingers that I'm right."

Opening the cage, he picks up the control rat and takes a swab of the substance and spreads a small amount on the rat's fur near its hindquarters. He drops the rat carefully back in the cage and sticks the swab in a glass tube before sealing it and setting it aside. He watches as the rat starts to groom its fur, ruffling it up and licking it clean.

"Rat has been exposed. Going to give it twenty minutes to make sure the substance is in the rat's system before turning the UV lamp on and making sure." He leaves the camera running and checks the time before starting to clear up the preparatory detritus. He sticks the swab in fridge with the rest of the substance - just in case - and by the time he's finished entering it into the database enough time has passed that he feels comfortable checking on the rat. 

"Four-fifty pm. Checking that infection has taken place." He flicks the switch on the lamp and hits the spacebar on the computer. The rat glows briefly in places and he stops it playing. "Rat is now confirmed to be infected. The UV lamp will remain on for the next twelve hours. The computer is programmed to play five seconds of a Doors song once every hour to give visual confirmation on whether the infection has been reversed, arrested, or accelerated."

He heads over to Hermann's side of the room and waits until Hermann pauses for a moment before stepping in behind him. "Thinking of getting dinner a little early," he says rubbing a hand over Hermann's back. "Sound okay to you?"

"Give me a moment to finish up. I'll be with you presently," Hermann says without taking his eyes away from the screen.

He walks away and spends the next ten minutes stacking up the research in his alcove before he hears Hermann stand and turn off his computer. He shoves his hands into his pockets and heads out as Hermann makes his way over to the door and maintains a slow pace as they head up to the commissary.

The noise level drops as they enter and Mendelssohn's step stutters. "Shit. I should have realised- Fuck." Mendelssohn says and Hermann puts a hand on his elbow.

"Do you want to leave?" He asks quietly and Mendelssohn shakes his head. 

"No... No. The sooner they get this out of their systems, the sooner they'll stop pulling this shit when I walk into a room," Mendelssohn says and continues across to the food line. He blocks out the whispers he hears as he passes and silently curses himself for losing his shit and drawing attention to himself while Newt was in hospital.

He keeps his head down as they get their food and take spots at a mostly empty table. Nobody takes the seats closest to them, but a few come over and offer their condolences, leaving when it becomes apparent that they're only going to say _thanks_ and return to eating in silence. 

Mendelssohn feels like he should be hungrier, that the food should taste good after he'd pretty much lived on a few stale granola bars for days, but it's bland and tasteless and he forces it down as fast as he can. 

They leave as soon as they're finished, not bothering to stick around so more people can point and stare and whisper. 

Reaching the lab, Mendelssohn glances at the door and then at Hermann.

"I don't really feel like going back to work," he says quietly, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoody.

"It's a Go Slow," Hermann says gently and guides him further down the hall.

Mendelssohn stares at his door apprehensively as they get closer. "I- I can't... I can't sleep there yet," he says, steps slowing. "Can I-"

"Of course." Hermann walks to his door and unlocks it, gesturing for Mendelssohn to enter before him. 

Mendelssohn stands awkwardly in the middle of the room as Hermann locks the door and takes off his blazer, hanging it up before turning and tugging Mendelssohn to him.

"I should've known everyone would have heard by now," he says, pulling his glasses off so he can bury his face in Hermann's shoulder. "I spent enough time stalking the halls to let them know _something_ was going on. Fuck. _Fuck_."

"People are gossiping vultures," Hermann says as he rubs Mendelssohn's back. "Carrion feeders who will soon tire of this event."

"Yeah, as soon as they've picked my bones dry," Mendelssohn sneers and Hermann hugs him a little tighter before steering him toward the bed.

"They will do what they will do and we will survive it. Come lie down; verticality is not agreeing with me right now." Hermann says and sits gingerly on the bed before slowly lying down and holding an arm out to Mendelssohn.

"It's gonna be worse when they find out about us," Mendelssohn says as he puts his glasses on the nightstand and curls up against Hermann's side. "You're gonna be the guy who jumped from a- from a dead man's bed into his brother's, and... I'm going to be the pathetic dude who let him."

"You never cared what anyone thought of you before," Hermann says pressing a kiss to Mendelssohn's forehead and rubbing a hand down his back.

"They were never talking about me and my clone and my boyfriend before." Mendelssohn rubs his face against Hermann's chest and looks up at Hermann with a defeated look. "I can barely talk about him. Why do they get to?"

"They didn't know him like we did," Hermann says with a sad smile. "They lost a scientist; a face in the hall. We lost a lover, a brother... a _limb_. What they say doesn't matter as long as we remember him as he was. Everything _you_ are. You carry his heart, you carry it in your heart." 

"Actually, my heart's mine. I got it _and_ the brain." Mendelssohn sighs and Hermann looks at him with a small, fond smile.

"Poetry is lost on you," Hermann says and Mendelssohn frowns.

"What?"

"here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows  
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart," Hermann recites, stroking a finger down Mendelssohn's cheek. "i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)."

"What does that even mean? I don't- Huh?" Mendelssohn stares at Hermann in confusion. "You're going to have to give me a poetry lesson here, man."

"You don't need a poetry lesson," Hermann says with a shake of his head. "He's with you. He's with me. Whatever anybody says about you or me or him, remember that."

"I guess," Mendelssohn says, but he doesn't sound convinced. 

"I _know_ ," Hermann counters.

Mendelssohn lays his head back on Hermann's chest and they slip into silence and that's the thing Mendelssohn hadn't been expecting; that Hermann would just sit with him quietly, not expecting or pushing him to talk about it. The silence makes it easier and he finds himself _wanting_ to talk to Hermann about everything rather than feeling hunted and defensive. 

He wakes from a nap he doesn't remember falling into and nudges at Hermann until he rouses. "Go stretch, then come back to bed," Mendelssohn says and takes himself off to the bathroom. He's done in a few minutes and strips down to his t-shirt and boxers.

"You're still wearing my t-shirt," Hermann says looking up as Mendelssohn walks back in.

"Do you want me to take it off?" Mendelssohn asks, fidgeting with the hem as he bites his lip.

"No... No. It's a good memory," Hermann says with a wry smile. "At least, it is now."

"I can't help it if you can't recognize when you're being flirted at," Mendelssohn says as he pulls back the covers and climbs into the bed, rolling onto his side to pick at the pilling on the blanket.

" _At_ being the operative word," Hermann says drily and grunts as he changes position.

"Hurting?" he asks as he glances up to see Hermann grimacing as he reaches toward his ankle.

"Yes," Hermann grinds out before relaxing for a moment and straining again. 

Mendelssohn takes that as his cue to shut up and waits until Hermann finishes, switches off the light, and climbs in to bed. "Here, I've got you," he says as he slots himself in behind Hermann, pressing up against his back and holding him close. "You want me to..." He moves his hand towards Hermann's back and Hermann snatches it away, hissing at the sudden movement.

" _No_ ," Hermann says, clasping Mendelssohn's hand to his chest. "Not- not right now. It's too tender." There's apology in Hermann's voice and he kisses Mendelssohn's knuckles.

"Sorry," Mendelssohn murmurs pressing a kiss to Hermann's shoulder. "This is okay, right?" 

"This is good. This is- yes," Hermann says rubbing Mendelssohn's arm gently.

"Good. I'm glad it's-" Mendelssohn cuts himself off with a sudden yawn burying his face between Hermann's shoulder blades as he arches involuntarily. "Sorry. Don't know why I'm so tired all the time now."

"We've been through a lot in the past few days," Hermann says quietly. "It's going to take us time to recover. Sleep now. This conversation's not so important that it can't wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter and epilogue next week! We're in the home stretch!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** More manifestations of grief.

Mendelssohn manages to make it into his room to shower and change with minimal apprehension the next morning. He doesn't think he'll be spending that much time there any time soon, but he's getting better with the idea that he can actually make it through the door and not feel surrounded by someone else's things.

He sees Tendo for the first time in days at breakfast and a sudden stab of guilt hits him.

"Shit, man, I'm so fucking sorry I told you that way," Mendelssohn says poking at his oatmeal with his spoon.

"Not gonna lie, it sucked to hear it, but I'm not holding it against you," Tendo says with a shrug, reaching over the table to squeeze his shoulder. "You had a lot going on. No hard feelings."

"Thanks. I- Yeah. It's kinda been fucked," Mendelssohn says and Tendo looks at him sympathetically. 

"You holding up okay?" He asks and Mendelssohn shrugs.

"Yeah, we're- I'm doing better. It's a process." Mendelssohn focusses on his bowl and hopes Tendo missed his slip. 

"I'm here if you ever want to talk, buddy," Tendo says with a sympathetic nod. "He'll be missed. Watching you two fight in the morning was almost better than Saturday morning cartoons."

Mendelssohn's lips quirk up at the side and then his throat's tightening and he can feel his eyes welling up and he's grabbing his tray and muttering _I gotta get to the lab_. 

He's gone before Tendo or Hermann can say another word. 

Back at the lab, he makes a beeline for the cages and directs his energy into checking the results. Sitting at the laptop, he looks over at the rat and hits play. He frowns for a moment and wheels the chair over so he can get a closer look and then pulls out his phone to check the time.

"September seventh, eight fifty-five am, subject is no longer bioluminescent and is still singular. Pending blood test for confirmation, Hypothesis that UV halts the progression of the contamination appears, tentatively, correct." He wheels himself back to the laptop and scans through the footage hour by hour to find the point where the luminescing started to fade and dials on his phone. "Hey, Katz... Dude, it's nearly nine, you were totally already there... No, wait, listen. The UV exposure? Worked. I've still got to take blood and confirm, but the rat's not glowing... No, I've still got no clue _why_... Yeah, I'm gonna run the tests and write up the report. You think we can set something up for today? ... Fine. Yeah, I'll send it through as soon as I'm done. You've got everything else, right? ... Okay, the lab at seven sound good to you? ... Sweet. Later."

He hangs up and is setting up to take a sample from the rat when Hermann hurries in, grunting with each laboured step. "You have to... stop running... away," he gasps as he reaches out to grasp Mendelssohn's shoulder. "At the very least... give me time... to catch up."

"Holy shit, Hermann. Did you _run_ here?" Mendelssohn says in shock and hooks his chair with his leg and pulls it over. "Here, sit down. You've gotta sit down. Why would you-"

"I do not _need_ to sit! I do not _want_ to _sit_!" Hermann shouts, glaring and shrugging off Mendelssohn's hand as he pushes the chair away forcefully with his cane. "I _need_ to know that you're _okay_! Don't you _dare_ think about retreating into your work again. I _will not_ stand for it!" Hermann's face is turning red and blotchy and he's breathing through his nose like an angry bull. 

Mendelssohn can't remember the last time he made Hermann angry like this and it brings him up short. Irate, irritated, frustrated, disdainful - those were all things he could handle. This? This _rage_? This was rare. 

He reaches out a tentative hand and places it on Hermann's shoulder, not squeezing or holding, just touching lightly. "I'm still here," he says softly and Hermann's lip curls. "I'm not retreating- I mean, I totally retreated but I'm not leaving you behind; not pushing you away. I-" he glances to the side and swallows, blinking rapidly as he remembers what made him flee in the first place. "I didn't want to... cry in the commissary. It's-... I-... We're never going to fight over breakfast again. I'd gotten used to it; stealing his bacon, him stealing mine, it's... it's not going to happen again. Ever."

It takes Hermann a moment to process what Mendelssohn's saying and then he's turning his head to the side and closing his eyes, clearly trying to rein himself in. "Every time you leave a place, a stab of fear hits my heart. My mind cannot fathom which would be worse: that you would be gone from my life, or that you would still be here, but gone from _me_."

"I'm not going to backslide. I-... I'm here. I just needed to get out of there. I'm sorry." 

Hermann raises a hand and reaches out slowly, touching Mendelssohn's shoulder softly, as though he's afraid his hand might slide right through, then he's grasping more firmly and nodding, staring at the spot his hand is touching. 

"This entire situation sucks and- and this isn't an excuse, it's just- sometimes I forget that I'm not the only one going through it." Mendelssohn moves closer and wraps his arms carefully around Hermann. "I lost my mind and I was selfish but you're in this too and I- I don't wanna be the guy who leans and leans and leans until you break. You need to lean back a little; let me take some of the load." 

Hermann lets himself be held, standing still while Mendelssohn rubs a hand over his back, the other cupping the back of Hermann's head and pressing it close to his own.

"I have to get to work," Hermann says quietly, sounding calmer but fragile. 

"Are you okay?" Mendelssohn asks as Hermann straightens and moves away. "I've got some tests to run ASAP, but they can wait if you need me more."

"No, it's okay. I need- I will-... Later. It can wait until later," Hermann says, tugging down his sweater vest and adjusting his blazer as he turns and walks away.

Mendelssohn watches him go with a worried frown, not moving until Hermann is up the stair and sitting at his computer.

He spends the rest of the morning taking a sample from the rat and running the bloodwork; unable to stop himself from doing a victory dance when the results come back clear of contagion. He heads into his alcove and takes Tesla out for company as he sits to send everything to Katz and start on his own report. 

Hermann sits beside him shortly before they usually break for lunch and Mendelssohn makes him stay there while he runs to the commissary and grabs a couple of sandwiches for them. When he gets back, Hermann's letting Tesla sit on his chest and talking to him quietly.

"He's coming back," he murmurs, running a finger down the rat's back and watching him quiver. "He hasn't been gone that long. I'm worrying for nothing."

Mendelssohn feels his heart tighten and makes his footfalls heavier as he heads to the alcove and dumps the sandwiches on the table. "All your stuff still on the laptop? You could work here this afternoon."

Hermann looks down at the rat on his chest and nods slowly, biting his lip. "Yes, ah, yes- It's- The one beside the desktop. And, could you- the wet wipes by the sink. Please."

Mendelssohn snorts and goes to grab everything. When he gets back he passes them both to Hermann and scoops Tesla off his chest, crying _Exile!_ as he puts him back in the run. He plugs in the laptop and flops back down on the couch, grabbing the sandwiches and giving one to Hermann. 

Lunch is spent telling him about the results and Hermann listens intently but doesn't contribute much. When they're done, Mendelssohn takes Tesla back out of the run and sets him on Hermann's chest.

"Don't argue, I know you like him," Mendelssohn says as he sits back down and Hermann gives him a disgruntled look.

"While I won't deny that there is a certain... satisfaction that comes from petting him, I most assuredly do not _like_ him," Hermann says with a sniff, but settles back to let Tesla run where he will. 

Mendelssohn smirks at him but doesn't argue, letting Hermann keep his dignity intact. 

The afternoon goes past quickly as he writes up the report, fingers flying over the keys at speed. At around five, Hermann's fingers slow and his head droops, jerking back suddenly when it falls too far. Mendelssohn tries not to snicker as Hermann looks at him grumpily. He kisses his cheek and takes Hermann's laptop, setting it on the table, and then guides Hermann's head down onto his shoulder. Hermann protests halfheartedly before curling into Mendelssohn's side and dozing off. 

He keeps working and before he knows it Katz is standing at the entrance to the alcove, staring at them in bemusement. 

"Shit, it's seven already? I'm still writing it up. Be done shortly. Hermann? Hermann wake up." He nudges Hermann with his elbow until he rouses and then nudges him some more when he grumbles and tries to nuzzle back in. "Come on, man, Katz is here. I gotta work. I wanna present this to Pentecost tomorrow. It's _important_."

Hermann jolts up, hissing at the sudden movement, before looking at Katz warily. "Apologies, I must have dozed off," he says looking around blearily.

"Uh huh," Katz says with an eyebrow raised in disbelief as Hermann scoops Tesla out of his lap and passes him off to Mendelssohn.

"I'll see you later?" He asks Mendelssohn quietly as he feels around for his cane.

"Yeah, I- Yeah." Mendelssohn says putting his laptop on the coffee table with one hand and holding onto a wiggling Tesla with the other. "Gimme a sec to clear some space. I seriously lost track of time." He stands and puts Tesla back in the run then unplugs Hermann's laptop and passes it to him before shoving some boxes out of the way and moving the piles of research to semi-orderly stacks on the table. "Feel free to sit wherever you want. I can grab a chair if you think the couch looks sketchy - it's not, but, I dunno, you might have a thing against sitting on plaid."

Katz rolls her eyes and sits beside him, opening up her laptop and watching Hermann leave. "He moved on quickly," she murmurs and Mendelssohn stops moving, shoulders slumping as he sighs and slides his fingers up under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Don't- It's not- You can't-" He turns and looks at her trying to work out how to even _begin_ to go about explaining and _what he_ even needed to explain in the first place while she just sits there looking at him expectantly, lips pursed in silent judgement. "It's _way_ more complicated than you can even imagine. He's not the bad guy here. He hasn't- He's not- He didn't _choose_. Before. It's- You don't need to know the details but... there was a them and there was an _us_. Newt was still working out how he felt about it but I couldn't just let you keep Hermann from seeing him. I did what I had to do and maybe I didn't think it through. We weren't... we weren't expecting him to... to go. Like that. Just... don't treat him like he's a shit. Because he's not."

Katz stares at him, eyes wide and clearly trying to process everything she's just been told. "You and Hermann?"

"Yes."

"And Newt and Hermann?"

"Yes."

"And-"

"You don't need the specifics," He says holding up a hand to cut her off. "It was a thing and there were things and he's _not_ desecrating Newt's memory or pretending he never existed, okay?" 

Katz's jaw clenches for a moment before she looks at him shrewdly. "You're okay?"

"I'm... surviving. And so is he," he says and pulls his laptop onto his lap, making it obvious that the discussion is over. "You ready to work?"

"I-..." Katz blinks slowly and shakes her head. "Yeah, sure. Let's go. What've you got?" Katz looks over at Mendelssohn's screen and listens as he breaks it down for her.

"Okay, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this right. We're going to hit him hard and fast: open with the fact that we have a cure," Katz says and starts making notes.

They work through until nine, organising and arranging the data to have maximum impact on presentation, when Hermann walks in and places a pair of boxes on the table.

"I wasn't aware if you had eaten, Dr. Katz, but if you don't want this I'm sure Mendelssohn will find space beside his specimens in the fridge and happily consume it regardless of where it's been. Mendelssohn, I got you the spaghetti and meatballs." Hermann says looking at Mendelssohn meaningfully.

"Thanks, man," Mendelssohn says shoving his laptop to the side and grabbing a fork and one of the boxes. "Completely forgot about the whole eating thing."

"I was going to get something before bed, but this is great," Katz says giving him a tentative smile. "Thank you, Hermann."

"You're very welcome, Beverley," Hermann says with a slight incline of his head.

"We'll be another couple of hours," Mendelssohn tells Hermann around a mouthful of spaghetti. "Don't wait up.

"I'll leave my door unlocked," Hermann says uncomfortably, avoiding Katz's eye and then turns and leaves the lab once more.

"You sold?" Mendelssohn asks with a raised eyebrow.

Katz watches Hermann go, opens and closes and closes her mouth a few times before turning to look at Mendelssohn. She stares at him for a moment before giving him a half smile and patting his knee. 

"I'm sold," She says with a shrug before grabbing her own box and digging in.

It's eleven-thirty by the time Katz is satisfied with what they've got and they're both yawning as they save everything and back it up in three different places each.

"We'll have about half an hour at eleven tomorrow. I've got rounds at nine, but we should get together at ten to go over everything one last time," Katz says and stretches, cracking her spine.

"Sounds good. Here or Medical?" Mendelssohn asks as he closes his laptop and pushes himself up to stand.

"Come up into the light, man," Katz says with a tired smile as she grabs her laptop and puts it away before walking out into the main area. "This smell normalizes, right? You've got no idea what it's like for everyone coming down here, do you?"

"Pssht," Mendelssohn says as he follows her, swiping his hand over the lightswitch as he leaves the alcove. "That smell? That's the smell of productivity. And intelligence. And _awesome_."

"It's something alright." Katz says and waves over her shoulder as she walks out. "Tomorrow, dude."

Mendelssohn checks on the rats and makes sure everything's secure before locking up the lab and heading down the hall. He doesn't feel apprehensive as he passes his door, but it might be because he has no intention of going in there right now. Hermann's door squeaks as he pushes it open and he cringes as he tries to shut it as quietly as possible before making his way slowly across to the bathroom in the dark. He brushes his teeth as quickly as possible and strips off down to his boxers and t-shirt before tiptoeing back into the room and sliding in behind Hermann.

"Thought you'd be later," Hermann murmurs, pulling Mendelssohn's arm around him and hugging it to his chest.

"I thought I would, too. Scoot over a little, my ass is hanging out," he says and inches across the bed following Hermann as he grumbles the entire time. "Why do you even have a single? I've seen dollhouses with bigger beds than this."

"It's easier to make," Hermann says and settles back in, falling asleep almost immediately.

Mendelssohn smiles, presses a kiss to the back of Hermann's neck and follows.

\---

"Open with the cure; the why and the how. You take over for the Medical: the autopsy and conclusions. I pick it up for the funding push," Mendelssohn recites as he and Katz stand outside Pentecost's office. Katz has a printout of the report and all the relevant appendices, Mendelssohn has his hands in his hair as he paces in front of the door.

"We'll be fine, Mendelssohn," Katz says, standing straight and tall and staring at the door calmly.

"I just want to make sure I have my shit together bef-"

The door opens and a pair of uniforms come out and head down the hall. Pentecost stands in the opening and motions for them to come in.

"Dr. Katz, Dr. Geiszler," he says as he takes a seat at his desk and stares at them intently.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Marshall. We appreciate you taking the time," Katz says, placing the report on the desk in front of him before gesturing to Mendelssohn.

"This is, uh- I've never been in here before. Why do you have pools of stagnant water in metal ponds? That's gonna rust. Is it supposed to be a water feature?" Katz nudges him hard in the side and he glares at her before remembering himself. "It's, uh. It's very... Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Chic. Um. Moving on. We've found a way to eliminate the contaminant from an exposed person's system through non-invasive means. Over the past month, we've made a lot of progress in discovering how the substance works - by entering a person and rapidly replicating itself until there is enough-"

"Dr. Geiszler," Pentecost cuts him off and Mendelssohn's jaw clicks shut as he stares at him in bafflement. "I have read the reports you and your counterpart submitted over the past month. I chose you for my staff because you're the best in your field. I trust that you understand what you are doing and that you will do it to the best of your ability. I do not need to hear the minor details; tell me simply what you have found."

"Right, uh. We prepared a thing and, um. Okay, y'know what? Never mind. UV. That's the answer. That's how we stop it. We'll need to run a more in depth study to get a better idea of how it'll work on humans, but that's the general gist of it. Overnight in a soundproof room under UV light. Boom, done," Mendelssohn says with a flourish and Pentecost stares at him with a frown.

"That... is a commonly used form of torture," Pentecost says and Mendelssohn can only blink at him.

"So, I'm not one-hundred percent caught up on my Torture Monthly subscription, but, it wouldn't be for days on end and, y'know, they could have a book. Or two." 

"Sir, it wouldn't necessarily have to be solitary confinement or _absolute_ silence. The current research shows that certain resonant frequencies agitate the substance into a faster rate of replication. By minimizing the amount of noise a patient is exposed to, we can reduce the rate of replication significantly," Katz interjects, trying to cover for Mendelssohn's blunt sarcasm.

"Do you have any leads as to _why_ a Kaiju would have this kind of ability?" Pentecost asks and Mendelssohn makes a slightly pained noise, stretching his neck out awkwardly.

"In a word? No," he says and Pentecost stares at him with dull-eyes. "Unless we actually see it in action? I'm not sure we're going to. I can speculate-"

"Speculation doesn't win arguments, Newt," Pentecost says and it feels like a punch to the gut.

" _Don't_ ," Mendelssohn spits, glaring at Pentecost, shoulders hunched and fists clenched tight by his sides. "It's Mendelssohn. You _gave_ me that name. You don't get to just take it away."

"My apologies, Mendelssohn. It was an unfortunate slip. You have my condolences," Pentecost says inclining his head, before looking at the pair of them seriously. "The UN, the funding bodies, they won't accept _might_ and _maybe_. To them, this rates as a lab accident with unfortunate consequences; we have no hard evidence of it being anything other than a _potential_ problem."

"A potential problem that could _double_ the population of kaiju ravaged areas," Mendelssohn says pointing out the window in the direction of _any_ of the places still recovering from the years of attacks.

"Didn't you just tell me we now have a _cure_ for said potential problem? That fact alone makes it unlikely that any funding will be diverted to the program-"

"It's preliminary," Katz says stepping forward and placing her hand on the edge of Pentecost's desk. "We need funding to perform a full study so that _when_ the potential problem becomes an _actual_ problem, we know exactly how to administer the cure without anyone splitting or _dying_."

"You head up the long-term study of the effects of Kaiju Blue on humans, don't you Dr. Katz?" Pentecost asks staring at Katz shrewdly.

"Yes, sir, but I don't-"

"Do you know where your funding comes from?" Pentecost asks and Katz straightens, nodding with a quiet _yes, sir_. "Do you know why you continue to receive funding? Every time a Kaiju attacks, there is a distinct possibility that there will be some Kaiju Blue contamination. Your work benefits hundreds of thousands of people: those who are suffering now, and those who may have the misfortune to suffer in the future. _Every_ Kaiju attack has that in common." He looks at Mendelssohn and shakes his head. "I cannot push for funding for a problem that doesn't exist. They will hear that we have a cure and that's all they will care about. I'm sorry, Mendelssohn."

"But- No- We need-"

"We need to find ways to _defeat_ the Kaiju. And I need you back on that, sooner rather than later."

"But-"

"That's my final decision," Pentecost says and gestures toward the door. "Thank you for all the work you've put into this, but it's time to move on. We need practical solutions to real problems."

"Thank you for your time, sir," Katz says before Mendelssohn can open his mouth again and pulls him out the door, closing it behind them.

"You weren't even going to try to _negotiate_?!" Mendelssohn says as he shakes her arm off and stares at her incredulously.

"The longer we stayed in there, the more chance there was of you pissing him off. You wanna go eat? Bitch about the injustice of it all?" Katz says looking at Mendelssohn with a commiserating sigh.

"Yeah, I guess, I-..." Mendelssohn stops and stares down the hallway, eyes wide as his brain goes into overdrive. "Holy shit. _Marshall!_ Marshall, wait!" He sprints back to the door and pushes it open without knocking. "We've still got fifteen minutes! I know _why_ they're doing it." He stares at Pentecost breathlessly and rushes on before Pentecost has a chance to yell at him. "We're _meat_. We eat _meat_. That's just how we survive. They're _silicon_." He paces in front of Pentecost's desk, gesticulating with his hands as the theories mesh together and pour out of his mouth in an unstoppable babble. "It's not biological. It's... It's _horticultural_. Sort of. If you think of it like an orchard, the people are the trees and when they're first planted, they need to focus on _growing_ rather than producing fruit. It'll make the tree stronger and subsequent harvests will yield more. It- Half of me was _replaced_ when we split. Half of my organs are now silicone. If I was exposed to the substance again, more of me would be replaced and the clone would also be half silicone. It's... they're making it so there's more food for _them_. The organic parts are irrelevant, they don't need them or want them, they want food that will sustain _them_. They were going to _farm_ us."

Pentecost is sitting up straighter and staring at him with narrowed eyes. "You're sure?"

"What other possible reason could there be for _doubling_ a population you're trying to decimate?" Mendelssohn says and stops suddenly. "They thought we'd been weakened enough that they could set up a- a- I don't know; a _base_ of some sort. A _stronghold_. Taurax came through and was supposed to start farming; the island's big enough to sustain a doubled- tripled- _quadrupled_ population _and_ a couple of kaiju and it's close enough to the breach that it could act as a way station. They were expanding their territory. They were coming to _stay_."

"You think they're organised? That these attacks aren't random?" Pentecost says and he's definitely listening now.

"Dude, you've had _teams_ of tacticians working on this for _years_. They only attack massively populated areas - Melbourne, Seoul, Los Angeles, Hong Kong. They're gunning for the major population centers on the Pacific coastline. And they've got _a lot_ of them." Newt scrubs a hand through his hair, looking at Pentecost and Katz tiredly. "They misjudged. They know we haven't been weakened enough yet. They're going to send through more kaiju and they're going to be _stronger_ than before. _Bigger_."

"We haven't seen a Category IV since twenty-nineteen. What makes you so sure we'll see another?" Pentecost asks and Mendelssohn stares off into space for a moment before responding.

"Herma- _Dr. Gottlieb_ said something - the attacks are getting closer together. We still can't accurately pinpoint _when_ , but a couple of days? A week? They're already stepping things up. They want this planet for some reason, and they will just keep coming at us until they have it."

"Dr. Gottlieb is still working on the prediction model? His last report indicated that he'd made little significant headway," Pentecost says and Mendelssohn shrugs.

"You'll have to talk to him about that. I'm just putting together a jigsaw puzzle that's missing about fifty pieces," Mendelssohn says and tilts his head to the side as he looks at Stacker. "If we had some funding, we could get at least one more."

"I would like nothing more than to be able to give my scientists everything they need. It's on their research that we make the greatest strides. However..." He sighs and stares at Mendelssohn honestly. "I am fighting tooth and nail just to _keep_ the scientists I _have_. They're more than willing to sink funding into R &D when there's profit to be had, but when the profit is measured in lives saved? They want one hundred _thousand_ , not one _._ I can try to impress on them the need for funding for long-term studies, but if what you say is true, the kaiju will be sending soldiers, not farmers. I need you working on ways to defeat those soldiers. Fight the cause, not the symptom."

Mendelssohn's jaw clenches and he has to take a moment to close his eyes and breathe. "Great speech, man. Really inspiring. I'll just go back to doing science that'll get ignored if it doesn't suit someone's agenda. Thanks. You were a lot of help. No really." Mendelssohn stalks towards the door.

"I am doing everything in my power to keep you in a _job_ , Dr. Geiszler," Pentecost says in a tone as cold as ice staring straight out the window. "You are still under my command and you will _respect_ my decisions." He turns his head and looks straight and Mendelssohn who can't help but shrink in on himself a little. "And if you ever enter my office without invitation again, I will have you court marshalled. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Yes, sir. I was just-"

"Dismissed, Doctor," Pentecost turns back to his desk and picks up a paper to start reading.

"But I-"

" _Dismissed_."

"Quit while you're ahead," Katz murmurs and ushers him out of the room quickly. "Jeez, man, don't you have any self-preservation instincts?" Katz says once they're out in the hall.

"I was just- Shit. We need that funding if we want to run a conclusive study on the cure. I can't just cobble that kind of shit together from bits and barter," Mendelssohn says and kicks the wall, regretting it the instant he remembers he's not wearing boots.

Katz looks at him sympathetically and shakes her head. "If what you said is true? It's not a priority. I mean, I get where he's coming from; he's got a million and one decisions on his shoulders and he has to choose his battles when it comes to funding. You push those suits too hard and they'll withdraw it for _necessary_ shit." 

"But we were finally getting _somewhere_ ," Mendelssohn says flexing his toes to make sure he didn't break anything. "We were finally getting _answers_."

"You did get answers, Mendelssohn," Katz says gently. "You found out the why and the how and how to stop it from happening to anyone else. Maybe they weren't the answers you were looking for, but it's better than not finding anything at all."

"I'm just supposed to let it go? Forget that it ever happened?" Mendelssohn glares and considers giving the wall another kick.

"No. You keep it. You keep it and when we need it, you have it. Sometimes... you have all the answers but nobody's asking the questions." Katz reaches out and squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. "When the time comes that people start asking the questions? You're one hundred percent allowed to say _I told you so_. 'Kay?"

"This is bullshit. You know that right?" Mendelssohn says with a huff.

"Grade A bullshit," Katz agrees and shrugs. "This just isn't our time to shine. Come on, I'll buy you lunch."

"Lunch is free," Mendelssohn mutters and then shakes his head. "Sorry, I'm just... not in the mood to couple rejection with a room full of people talking about me behind my back. I'm gonna head back to the lab. Lick my wounds in private."

"If you're sure," Katz says and starts to back down the hall. "Oh, hey, we got a space opened up in the Wednesday night poker game in Medical. Research and techs, mostly. You want in?"

"You'd let a lowly biologist in?" Mendelssohn says with a raised eyebrow.

"We let Brian in," Katz says with a wry shrug and a smirk. "Come on, we need someone who's good at trash talking, Jimmy's getting lonely. You in?"

"Maybe not this week, but next?" Mendelssohn asks and Katz gives him a thumbs up.

"Sweet. I'll email you the deets. Later, man," Katz says and turns to walk down the hall.

Mendelssohn watches her go and then sighs and heads back to the lab. 

Hermann's standing in front of the boards and staring up at them holding a piece of chalk to his lips as he reads.

"You all done with the coding?" Mendelssohn asks as he comes to stand beside him and Hermann shakes his head.

"No, I knew it couldn't be my code. Finnegan called. They found the loose connection; T12 junction. Even with two teams working from either end of the vertebral column it took them this long to find it because it was in the _middle_." Hermann rolls his eyes and turns to look at Mendelssohn. "How did your presentation go?"

"Dead in the water," Mendelssohn says with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Hermann's eye. "It's... not a priority. There's no evidence to suggest that the kaiju will _use_ it against us any time soon and if they do, we've already got a cure. So, no funding _and_ I've been told point blank to get back to work on other things."

"Are you okay?" Hermann asks with more than a hint of concern on his face, reaching out to clasp Mendelssohn's elbow.

"No?" Mendelssohn says with a bitter laugh. "I just- I thought it would come to something. In the space of a month and a half _everything_ changed but now I'm right back where I began and there's nothing I can do about it."

"You can't keep working as you have been?" Hermann asks and Mendelssohn opens his mouth and can feel a billion and one answers crammed into his chest but none of them will come.

"On what?" He finally manages to sputter. "If I want to push the cure through into a testing phase, I need funding for more rats and more space and more... _more_. If I want to look into ways to reverse-engineer and synthesize this stuff, I'll need funding, but there's no point in looking into that while they're trying to _destroy_ us. And it's going to get worse now."

"Worse?" Hermann says, head jerking up as he eyes him shrewdly.

"I figured out why it does what it does," Mendelssohn says shrugging Hermann's arm off and heading into the alcove to take Tesla and hold him close to his chest, taking comfort in the warm, trusting body huddled against him.

"You're just going to leave it there?" Hermann says looking bewildered as he follows Mendelssohn in.

"It's what put the final nail in my funding's coffin," Mendelssohn says as he flops down on his couch and lets Tesla go.

"How so?" Hermann asks as he sits beside him, watching his face intently.

Mendelssohn sighs and focuses on Tesla's twitching whiskers. "It wasn't just a regular attack. They were trying to get a foothold. They were going to _farm_ us. Newt... Newt was just _food_. He wasn't meant to _survive_. They thought we were weak enough that they could do it but now they're going to come at us harder and bigger and if we don't find a way to stop them, they're going to win."

"You're sure?" Hermann asks and Mendelssohn shrugs. 

"As sure as I can be without anything to really work with. I can't _prove_ anything. I have a hypothesis that fits all the known factors, but everything to back it up is circumstantial. There's me and Newt, there's the location, your prediction model, and- and it _fits_ \- it makes _sense_ \- but unless I can find a way to prove it, nobody's going to give a shit."

"My prediction model?" Hermann says with a frown.

"Yeah. I bigged you up in front of the Marshall. You're welcome," Mendelssohn says with a wry smile.

"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but the model is nowhere near accurate and-"

"The model isn't the issue. History's enough to prove you right; they're attacking more frequently. A week, a couple of days, they're inching closer. Soon... they're gonna stop _inching_ ," Mendelssohn slumps down further, cupping his hands around Tesla and rubbing his nose against his face. "I just- I _know_ I have to leave it behind; I have to move on. I have to find better ways to kill them quicker. But- but I don't _want_ to because-... because I feel like I'd be letting him down."

"Oh, Mendelssohn," Hermann says and then he's leaning in close and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, kissing his temple softly. "I might not have the benefit of _being_ him, but I know for a fact that he would not be disappointed with everything you and he have achieved."

"If he was here we'd bitch about it and get angry but then we'd probably move on and get to work. I mean, I've still got the... I can finish the Milking Machine, but... This is it. A month and a half from start to finish and- and he's gone... he was barely even here. Why does it matter _so_ much that I failed him?"

"One, you emphatically did _not_ fail. You achieved everything you set out to discover about the gland's function and purpose," Hermann says and then tilts Mendelssohn's chin up until they're looking eye to eye. "Two, you feel like you failed _yourself_." Hermann rubs his thumb gently over Mendelssohn's cheek. "You've invested so much in this, your very heart and soul, and for the results to be other than you hoped is shattering. Ah ah ah, you _look_ shattered. And I do not blame you. This isn't a failure, Mendelssohn. It's an unrecognised success, something those in our community are far too familiar with."

"Thanks for trying, but that doesn't make me feel any better," Mendelssohn says with a twist of his lips. 

"I don't imagine that it does," Hermann says squeezing his shoulder. "This line of research may not help us win the war, but whatever you do next might. Or whatever you do after that. The important thing is that you _keep trying_. There is nothing that will lose this war faster than us doing nothing."

"I wasn't going to stop doing _everything_ ," Mendelssohn says, frowning at Hermann. "I _know_ this isn't something I should pursue right now. It's important but it's not _important_. It's... at _any_ other time, people would be creaming their shorts over what this stuff could do; dude, seriously, the potential for self-repairing organs is _amazing_. If I could combine it with the artificial tissue replication we could _eliminate_ organ rejection after transplant; it would revolutionize medicine." He's looking at Hermann and he's excited and in awe of the possibilities but then his eyes are dimming and he's slumping back down. "But it's no good to anyone if we're all dead."

"I know that feeling," Hermann says and pulls Mendelssohn until he's leaning against his side, pressing his lips to the crown of his head and sighing. "All the things we could know and learn from these events, all the things we can study and find out, and we have to narrow ourselves down and keep our focus. All our passion subsumed by stress and our studies driven by fear of failure. It's no way to live. It's no way to _learn_. But we do what we must to survive." He sighs and rests his head against Mendelssohn's head and they both stare down at Tesla, watching as he cleans his whiskers fastidiously. "What say we do what we were put in this lab together to do?"

"What?" Mendelssohn twists his neck until he can look up at Hermann in confusion.

"Keep each other on point," Hermann says with a fond smile. "Whatever is to come out there, whatever the Kaijus throw at us, we will be right here, throwing a spanner in their works. You and I will stop them in their tracks."

"You've got a lot of faith in us, man," Mendelssohn says and rests his head back on Hermann's shoulder.

"I do," Hermann agrees, rubbing his nose through Mendelssohn's hair. 

"Hermann?" Mendelssohn says softly and Hermann makes a questioning noise. "Kaiju is _still_ the plural of kaiju."

Hermann blows a raspberry against the side of his head and Mendelssohn snickers and for the first time in a while he feels like they might make it through this thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to come on Thursday! Nearly there!


	22. Chapter 22

**Epilogue**

_January 2nd, 2023_

"Hey, come on, right this way, right in here," Mendelssohn says as he tugs Hermann through the bustling streets of the boneslum, dodging people and bikes as they make their way into the storefront. "Okay, so, you gotta get the thing with the little wontons in it; the shrimp ones are good but, man, the beef are _amazing_. Oh, it's crowded. I told you it'd be crowded, right? We might have to wait for- There's two by the back corner! I'll go grab 'em!" Mendelssohn darts between the tables and people until he can grab the pair of stools and keep them free until Hermann catches up. "You good with a stool? We can wait for a table but-"

"The stools are fine, Mendelssohn," Hermann says, slightly breathless from dodging people and chairs. 

"You going to be okay getting up there?" Mendelssohn asks as he hops down holding his arm out to make a barrier between Hermann and anyone passing behind.

"I will be _fine_. Just go order," Hermann waves a hand at Mendelssohn irritably before hoisting himself up onto the stool and using the head of his cane to draw Mendelssohn's hand closer.

"What did you want?" Mendelssohn asks bouncing on his toes and looking over at the menu.

"Get me whatever you're having since you seem so enamoured of it." 

"You sure? I mean, just because I'm having doesn't mean you have to. They've got other good things h-"

"Mendelssohn," Hermann says placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. "Get the food."

"Right. Sure. Yeah. Going." Mendelssohn darts across the room and slips in to the back of the line. 

He spends the next ten minutes switching between staring up at the menu and looking over to make sure Hermann's doing okay before he makes it to the front of the queue and places his order. 

"It's gonna be another ten-fifteen minutes before it's ready. You doing okay over here?" Mendelssohn asks, quickly darting back to Hermann while keeping an eye on the serving section.

"I've only had to bludgeon one person senseless to stop them stealing your stool," Hermann says drily and Mendelssohn whips his head around to stare at him. "I am _fine_. Honestly, Mendelssohn, what's gotten into you? You're not usually so... hover-y."

"We're on a date," Mendelssohn says with a grin. "I'm looking out for my date. That's what a good date _does_. Apparently. According to Tendo."

"Go look out for our _food_ ," Hermann says with a fond smile.

Mendelssohn pokes out his tongue and heads back to the counter, returning ten minutes later with a bowl for Hermann and darting back to grab his own. He hops up onto the chair and shuffles over until he's pressed up close to Hermann and they can hear each other over the din. 

"You didn't start," Mendelssohn says, looking over at Hermann's untouched bowl.

"We're on a _date_ ," Hermann says smugly. "I was following _date etiquette._ "

"Cheeky," Mendelssohn says with a shake of his head and then gestures with his chopsticks. "Eat up, it's gonna get cold." He watches intently as Hermann tentatively picks up his chopsticks and swirls the noodles and wontons around in the broth before lifting a wonton up to his mouth and staring at Mendelssohn as he bites into it. His eyes close and his spare hand covers his mouth and Mendelssohn stares at him in alarm as he hears a muffled _oh my god_. "Is it bad? Oh jeez, it's been a while since I've been here but I didn't think it'd changed that much. Are you okay?"

Hermann's reaching out and grabbing Mendelssohn's shoulder and he's shaking his head as he swallows. "Oh my god. This is- This-" He cuts himself off by shoving the rest of the wonton in his mouth and chewing rapturously. He follows it up with a mouthful of noodles, staring at Mendelssohn seriously as he chews. "We are coming back here. We are coming back here _regularly_ ," he says and there's a noodle hanging out the side of his mouth but Mendelssohn can only laugh in disbelief.

"You like it that much, huh?" Mendelssohn asks as he takes a bite of his own and, _oh god_ , it really is as good as he remembered.

Hermann moans around a mouthful and waves his chopsticks at Mendelssohn. "No talking," he says and then he's focussed on his food. 

Mendelssohn smirks and tries to keep up and before he knows it they're both draining the broth from the bowl and Hermann's looking over at him with an air of relaxed satisfaction.

"I ate that much too fast, but I would do it again in a second. My god, that was good," Hermann says, reaching under the counter to squeeze Mendelssohn's knee. "Why didn't we come here sooner?"

"You didn't want our first date to be in the boneslum," Mendelssohn says with a single shouldered shrug as he pokes at the bottom of his bowl with his chopsticks.

"Well, I'm glad our second date was," Hermann says and Mendelssohn huffs a quiet laugh and then sobers. 

"Is it-... Is it wrong that I'm kind of glad we never came here with him?" he asks looking up at Hermann wistfully. "I mean, I don't think I could go back to Patatina without thinking of him the entire time."

"I know the feeling," Hermann says and sighs. "I'm glad you brought me here, but I'm not sure it would have been the same with memories of him sunk deep in the foundations of the place."

"Yeah," Mendelssohn stares off for a moment. "Do you want to- Let's get out of here. We've still got time." Mendelssohn hops off the stool and stacks their bowls, dropping them off at the counter before leading Hermann out onto the street.

"Where are we going?" Hermann asks as Mendelssohn slips his arm through his and steers him down the street. 

"You'll see." 

They walk for around ten minutes in companionable silence and then Mendelssohn's slowing down as they round a corner and Reckoner's skull looms before them.

"Did you bring me to look at a Kaiju corpse?" Hermann says narrowing his eyes at Mendelssohn.

"Kind of?" Mendelssohn says and leans against a nearby wall so he can stop and stare without blocking traffic. "I used to come here a lot. Whenever it felt like I wasn't getting anywhere and I forgot why I was doing it. Puts everything in perspective; they're huge and destructive but we can still beat them. They're enormous, not immortal. It's not perverse or anything. This is just... a giant symbol of _their_ mortality. It's comforting."

"I suppose it is," Hermann says as he leans beside Mendelssohn. "Have you ever been inside?"

"No. But I want to. Seeing the skeleton from the inside would be _so_ freaking informative. I've been submitting proposals to Pentecost for years," he says and turns to fix Hermann with a wry smile. "Apparently I'm not allowed to join a cult for science."

Hermann snorts. "I'm afraid I'm with the Marshall on this one. You've done some very foolish things in the time I've known you, but that would most assuredly top the list."

"Yeah," Mendelssohn says with a sigh and stares at the skull for a while, its multiple cavernous eye sockets dark and foreboding contrasting wildly with the warm glow of the torches set at the top of the stairs in its mouth. "I've, uh, I've been thinking... about-... about taking my name back. Is it- Would that be disrespectful? Weird?"

"I don't know, " Hermann says after a moment. "On the one hand, it could prove confusing in future conversations. But on the other... it seems unfair that you should live your life in his shadow."

"All my degrees are in his name. All my publications. Mendelssohn Geiszler's work history starts at the PPDC four months ago," Mendelssohn sighs and looks at his feet. "If- If we all make it through this and I'm Mendelssohn at the end? I'm not going to have anything."

"They can reissue testamurs to reflect the change in your name," Hermann says consideringly. "There's not a lot to be done about the publication history, I'm afraid."

"You don't think I should do it." Mendelssohn sighs and looks down at his boots. He'd started wearing them again after his sneakers got covered in Kaiju Blue and the look on Hermann's face when he saw them made Mendelssohn reconsider even talking to him about the name change.

"Whatever you choose, I will support you," Hermann says looking over at him solemnly and reaching out to take his hand. "You've always been Newton to me."

"I don't- I don't want to _erase_ him. I just-... I want my life back." Mendelssohn looks over at Hermann sadly. "I can't be me without literally existing in a giant reminder of him, either way. He's been gone longer than he was even here. I've been Mendelssohn longer than he was ever Newt. You realize that, right?"

"I do," Hermann says looking away with a sigh. "And I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Me either, man," Mendelssohn sighs and looks at his watch. "We should start walking." He tugs on Hermann's hand and waits for him to right himself and then he's leading him slowly through the slums until they reach a storefront with blacked out windows and a bright pink neon sign flashing a word in Cantonese. "You're still cool with coming here, right? I mean, it's going to be at least four hours."

"I'm... I am fine," Hermann says swallowing as he looks up at the sign. "I want to be one of the last people to see those freckles before you so cruelly hide them away forever."

"You and the freckles, man," Mendelssohn says with a smirk. "You're so weird. Come on." 

Mendelssohn leads him in and they're shown to a room in the back. There's a woman setting up and when they walk in and Mendelssohn lets go of Hermann's hand so he can give her an awkward hug.

"Fang, this is Hermann. It's okay if he sits in, right?" Mendelssohn says as he pulls back.

"Any friend of Newt's," she says and gestures to a stool on the opposite side of the room.

Hermann inhales sharply and looks at Mendelssohn who's rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and cringing.

"Sorry, should have warned you. Um. It's complicated? They knew me before and it felt weird making the appointment under another name?" Mendelssohn says, watching as Hermann takes a few breaths and then shakes his head and pulls the stool over beside the bench and perches on it without a word.

Mendelssohn takes off his jacket and throws it on the bench before undoing a few buttons and pulling his shirt over his head. He tosses it on top of his jacket and then Fang's turning him to face the light so she can see how the last one healed.

"You want this touched up while you're here?" she asks and Mendelssohn shakes his head. 

"Get it next session? There's only so much I can put Hermann through at once," he says and then he's lying on his stomach on the table and Fang's starting to work. Letting his hand drop off the far side of the table as Fang shaves and sterilises the area on his back, he grabs Hermann's hand and squeezes. "You doing okay?"

"What? Oh, yes. Fine, fine..." Hermann says and continues to stare as she prepares. "She's not working with a template?"

"Nope," Mendelssohn says with a smug grin. "Fang's the best freehand I've ever met. I send her photos and footage of what I want and she makes it all work in a cohesive style. I'm _so_ freakin' lucky I found her. Aren't I, Fang?"

"You're lucky you bring me interesting subjects," she says wryly as she pulls on a pair of gloves and starts the tattoo machine running.

Hermann jerks at the sound and Mendelssohn squeezes his hand. "It's all part of the show. It lightly abrades the skin, letting the ink sink in, and it'll be going for pretty much the entire time." He twists his head so he can see Hermann's face better. "You don't have to stay if it freaks you out."

Hermann swallows and shakes his head. "No... No. I said I would come and now I am staying," he says but he's looking a little pale and when Mendelssohn feels the needle touch his skin for the first time he understands why. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Yeah, but not as much as some of the lab accidents I've been in," Mendelssohn says, face twisted in a frown of concentration as he tries not to tense.

"I don't suppose I'll ever understand your need to do it," Hermann says with a shake of his head.

"You're here; that's enough," Mendelssohn says and lifts Hermann's hand to kiss his knuckles.

Six hours later, he's hopping off the table and raising his arm so he can see it. Taurax is large and green and stylised, sunrays bursting from behind his head and blending seamlessly with the tattoos surrounding it.

Hermann slides off the stool and moves closer, turning his head this way and that so he can see it clearly. "This one is different from the rest," he says with a frown and tries to find a spot where he can see it more clearly. "Musical notation?"

"It's a memorial. It's, uh, Love Me Two Times," Mendelssohn says quietly. "I-... I'm moving on. But... I'm taking him with me." He looks at Hermann tentatively, hoping he's not going to have to explain further.

"Wherever you go, there he is," Hermann murmurs as he straightens. He presses a kiss to Mendelssohn's forehead and steps back to let Fang tape a pad of gauze over the tattoo.

"You know the drill," she says as he awkwardly pulls his shirt back over his head.

"Take care of it. Don't fuck up your work and make you look bad," Mendelssohn says, hissing as he pulls his jacket it on.

"Exactly. You need any more ointment?" She asks as he starts patting himself down for his wallet.

"Nah, I'm good." Mendelssohn pulls out his wallet and stands beside Hermann to help him off the stool. "Catch you on the flip side," he says and waves at Fang before leading Hermann out of the room.

"It was nice to meet you, Fang," Hermann says over his shoulder as he's pulled away and Fang just gives them a bemused smile and watches them go.

Mendelssohn settles up at the front desk and then they're back on the street. He's pressed up tight against Hermann's side, head resting on his shoulder and smiling dreamily as they walk.

"You seem happy," Hermann murmurs looking over at Mendelssohn with a small smile.

"Mmm, endorphin rush," Mendelssohn replies, rubbing his face against Hermann's shoulder. "I can stop if it's too much."

"Don't," Hermann says taking Mendelssohn's hand to kiss his knuckles. "It's been quite a while since I've seen you like this; usually only when you're post-coital."

Mendelssohn tightens his arm around Hermann and then he's pulling him to the nearest shadow, pressing him up against the wall and kissing him senseless. He's cradling Hermann's face and his hands are sliding down to his chest. It's been so long since it felt okay to even _think_ about kissing Hermann with intent that he doesn't stop even when Hermann pulls him closer by putting his hand directly on top of his new ink. He gasps and grabs Hermann's hand, moving it up higher and keeps kissing him until they both have to pull away, panting for breath.

"Do you... Do you want to come to mine tonight?" Mendelssohn asks against Hermann's cheek, staring at Hermann as a frisson of anxiety runs down his spine. "I know we said we were gonna wait... until... until we were both- but, _fuck_ , I miss waking up beside you. We don't have to- It can just be sleep. It's been more than a month and I'm sleeping through the night now. You're not a crutch and... and I can do it without you but I don't _want_ to."

"Mendelssohn, yes, I- _Mendelssohn_ ," Hermann says pulling back so he can see his face. "I've been waiting for you to ask."

"You've been w-" Mendelssohn narrows his eyes at Hermann. "You mean I could have just _asked_ you to come back to my room on New Year's instead of pretending to pass out on you on the couch at three am so you'd feel sorry for me and stay?"

"Yes," Hermann says and kisses him softly. "Though, if it makes you feel any better, I knew you were pretending."

"I'm going to punch Liakos in the _spleen_ for making you even _consider_ doing this," Mendelssohn grumps and Hermann laughs quietly and hugs him close.

"We needed it. We needed to be able to function. Separately. It's over now." Hermann says rubbing his hand high over Mendelssohn's back. "What say we go home?"

"Sure," Mendelssohn says and steps back, pulling Hermann with him. He keeps his arm around Hermann as they walk down the street, quieter now that the hour is late. They wend their way through the alleys toward the bus stop and Mendelssohn takes a deep breath. "Hey, Hermann," he murmurs as they get close enough to see the busy main street bordering the slums. Hermann raises an eyebrow at him and he shrugs. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Mendelssohn," he says, face shifting into a warm smile.

"Um," Mendelssohn says and looks up at Hermann tentatively. "Call me-... Call me Newt?"

Hermann stops and turns to face Mendelssohn, straightening Mendelssohn's collar and tie before smoothing his hands down Mendelssohn's jacket. He runs his hands over Mendelssohn shoulders, and down his arms, wiping away a spot of dust and a speck of lint before looking down at him with a soft smile.

"Happy New Year, Newton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for making it this far! Every single one of you deserves a pat on the back and a blanket fort stocked with tissues and tea. 
> 
> \o/ 
> 
> ~~Now that that roller coaster's come back to the station, I'm going to open up suggestions for what I should focus on next. There's a post on my tumblr[here](http://quokkafoxtrot.tumblr.com/post/100216171744/taking-suggestions-for-what-i-should-focus-on-now) with all the WIPs I have going right now and you're welcome to bet on whichever one catches your eye. (I don't do anon there, so if you don't have a tumblr feel free to respond here.)~~ I've finished one of the things and am pretty much just working wherever I have inspiration now. The Everybody Lives AU is at ~~11k~~ 25k, but apparently I've decided plot should happen so it's going to be _long_ and I don't know how long it's going to take to finish. I am working on it, though!
> 
> I made a few mixes for this 'verse: an [inspiration mix](http://8tracks.com/quokkafoxtrot/divergent-paths), one for [Mend](http://8tracks.com/quokkafoxtrot/mendelssohn-geiszler), and one for [Newt/Mend](http://8tracks.com/quokkafoxtrot/bravo-self-gratification).
> 
> Reminder that [marshtwain](marshtwain.tumblr.com) did some flipping fantastic art inspired by the fic [here](http://marshtwain.tumblr.com/post/107525141192/happy-very-late-pacific-rim-secret-santa-for). Go look at it.
> 
>    
>  ~~(I have relatives descending on me for an extended period tomorrow, so it may take me longer than usual to respond to comments. I _love_ receiving them and sincerely appreciate everyone who takes the time to let me know what they thought, I will respond as soon as I can!)~~ I am so far behind on everything. I promise I will get to them, I just don't know _when_.


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